Stay Young, Go Dancing
by NotesandPhotographs
Summary: Getting drunk at a quidditch victory party was completely expected for Hogwarts' queen of poor life choices. Waking up in Albus Potter's bed the next day was not. Now Marian has a choice to make. A story of hard decisions, growing up, and falling in love.
1. September

Stay Young, Go Dancing

For Ashley: This is, after all, your fault.

Chapter 1—September

**IMPORTANT NOTE! PLEASE READ: This story deals with sensitive issues such as teen pregnancy and abortion. If either of these makes you uncomfortable, please do not read. While you may disagree with the views expressed in this story, please, keep your opinions to yourself.**

_Because what is simple in the moonlight by the morning never is_—"Lua" by Bright Eyes

The party doesn't start until I walk in. It's true. I'm not exaggerating here. Quidditch parties, birthday parties, holiday parties, themed parties, random, for the hell of it parties—all of these are only a success because of me.

And no, I'm not some fancy-shmancy party planner either. I just bring the fun.

I know what you're thinking. Who are you, and where did you get such an inflated sense of self importance?

Well, for starters, I do not have an inflated sense of self importance. And as for who I am, well, the name's Marian Campbell. Seventeen. Muggleborn. Hufflepuff. Patron Hogwarts Saint of Parties and Poor Life Choices.

Okay, calling myself a saint might be a bit much. Especially because I'm fairly certain I've never done anything saint-like in my entire life. You know, the whole party thing? Yeah. Definitely not saint-like.

But the point is that my presence (or lack thereof) at a party can and will make or break it.

There are requirements if you want me to show up at your party. A couple of rules, if you will.

Rule Number 1: It needs to be a wet party. There needs to be alcohol. Alcohol helps everyone loosen up. And quite frankly, I can't think of a more depressing thing then being forced to dance with a boy, a group of friends, hell, anyone, sober. It just makes me think of being at a fifth grade dance, where you all awkwardly dance in groups and boys and girls still hate the idea of being near each other. Never been to one? Trust me, you're not missing out.

And Rule Number 2: I don't do anything less than rambunctious. Seriously. Your quiet little get together is not where I want to be on a Saturday night. There needs to be music and so many people that I actually bump into someone I don't know. I don't want to remember your party in the morning, that's how rambunctious I want it to be.

You make sure that your party is these two things, and I'll be there, along with the rest of the Hufflepuff Queen Bees. And if we're there, trust me, everyone else will be too.

And this is why the Slytherin common room was filled with people tonight. The first quidditch match of the season had concluded earlier today, and Slytherin had slaughtered Ravenclaw, 260 to 40. Now normally, I don't bother much with Slytherin parties. They're a grim, serious little bunch and I'm more, well…not grim and serious. But Scorpius Malfoy, Slytherin quidditch captain and seventh year hottie, invited me to the party and who was I to say no?

Well, I say no to a lot of parties people throw, but that's beside the point. Last year, Malfoy and I had been partners in Potions for our final project. Now Potions is one of the few subjects which I get an O in. It's not that I'm dumb, it's just that if I'm not particularly interested in a subject, I just can't be bothered with it. Sadly, this goes for most of the subjects I study in school. But Potions was something I found ridiculously fascinating, which was a very lucky thing for Scorpius Malfoy, who happened to be absolutely terrible at Potions. Not that he didn't try; oh no, the poor sod certainly deserved an O for the effort he put into the class alone. But if I left the brewing to him, we'd both be getting Trolls. During the project we had become more than acquaintances who passed each other in the hallway without so much as a nod. Now we actually conversed, not just in class, but outside of it. We were, although I am loath to put a label on it, friends. I mean, we're not going to be staying up late gossiping or anything, but we hang out sometimes. Occasionally, I'll even sit at the Slytherin table and have lunch with Scorpius.

So when his team won their first match, well, as a friend I'm pretty much obligated to make sure that the celebration that followed would be one that Hogwarts would never forget. So with myself and the Hufflepuffs on board, so were the Gryffindors. Even some of the Ravenclaws (well, those not caring that much about quidditch) snuck down to the dungeons for the festivities.

And with the party in full swing, I'll admit I was more than a little bit tipsy. The only reason I knew how many drinks I had is because I stacked all the cups together. I did this so that when people question just how much I've had to drink, I know the answer and have proof to back it up. Currently, I have six red cups stacked together, although the top cup is still half full. I have no idea what exactly is in the drink, but it's red and fruity, which leads me to think that it's some type of punch. Most people were clustered in groups and talking. There was music earlier, but I gathered that the DJ was taking a break.

I took a sip of my drink and made my way over to a group of people. I was pretty popular, so I knew most people well enough that I could fit in with any group. But on my way I stumbled—hey you would stumble sometimes too, if you were wearing five inch heels!—and fell into someone.

"Oi, watch yourself, Campbell." Ah, if it wasn't the voice of my friend Scorpius! He steadied me, but I still teetered slightly, giggling.

"Oh c'mon now, Scorpy," Scorpius cringed at the nickname. "I thought we were passed this whole last names thing. You promised to call me Marian last year." Drunkenly, I wagged my finger at him and winked. "Naughty, naughty boy."

Rose Weasley, Scorpius' girlfriend and perhaps the only girl in the whole school who had hair redder than mine, protectively wrapped her arm around her boyfriend and narrowed her eyes. I cackled in response. "Settle down, Weasley. It's just a bit of harmful flirting. Harmless," I quickly amended, "I mean harmless. Besides, Scorpy here isn't my type."

I always speak the truth. Well, most of the time. But this was one of those times. While Scorpius is a gorgeous example of the male species, with shaggy blonde hair and sparkling grey eyes, he is a serial monogamist. Before Rose Weasley was Clara Whitehall, and before Clara was Stacy Simmons. Each of those relationships had last more than six months. Weasley had lasted the longest so far. They had begun going out last winter. But as for me, well, I don't do relationships. A snog in a broom cupboard? Sure. A summer, no strings attached fling? Most definitely. Skiving off class for a quick shag? Oh yes. But relationships? No.

Life was just too short to bother with entanglements. Perhaps in a few years, I'd settle down and stick with one boyfriend, but right now, all I wanted to do was have fun. And being tied down to one immature, idiot boy at this school would certainly put a damper on things.

"Mare, how drunk are you?"

"I'm not that drunk _at all_. I've only had," I looked at the cups in my hand and counted the rims. "five drinks."

"Marian, you're holding six cups," Scorpius corrected me, looking slightly amused at my antics.

"I _know that_. But I haven't finished cup number six yet." I took a big sip of my drink to punctuate this sentence. Weasley, still standing protectively next to Scorpius scoffed. I rolled my eyes at her. "I'm _fine. _Really. Look!" I then proceeded to try and touch my nose with my fingers, to prove I wasn't that drunk, but foolishly brought the hand still holding my cup to my face. On impact, I grunted and my drink swished forward, spilling down the front of my yellow dress. Scorpius and Rose laughed at me. "Aw, bollocks," I muttered. That was going to stain. And charms weren't exactly my thing. Especially domestic charms while drunk. If I took out my wand, I had a feeling I would only make the stain worse. Or manage to set myself on fire. I wonder if you could get club soda out here in the middle of nowhere Scotland. Probably not. Stupid idea. But I like this dress, okay! Rose seemed to pity me, standing there, looking despondent at my ruined dress. She took out her wand and waved it, making the stain disappear.

"Thanks Weasley." I downed the rest of my drink.

"Hey, Al, could you take her upstairs? Let her sleep it off in my bed." A hand reached out and gently grasped my elbow. I shook it off and started to walk away.

"Go'way. You're such a kill joy, Malfoy."

"Marian!" Scorpius called out after me, but I didn't turn around. Instead, I just walked, rather crookedly, away from him and his snotty girlfriend. I could hear footsteps behind me, but they only caused me to try and speed up.

And here's where my penchant for poor life choices comes into play. I really should know better by now. Running in heels, especially while drunk, has never been something I've been good at. I went tumbling to the floor, the cups in my hand flying off to Merlin knows where. There was a ripping sound and I winced, and not because I had just face planted into the floor.

Looks like the universe is out to make sure I never wear this dress again.

There was a giggle. Then another. And by the time I had hauled myself up and onto my knees, everyone in the room was laughing. I blushed to my roots. Someone reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and Albus Potter smiled at me, reaching out his other hand to help me up. Reluctantly I took it and climbed to my feet. I allowed him to lead me to the boys' dormitory staircase, far too embarrassed to make much of a fuss.

God, I can be such a klutz sometimes. And not in the endearing way either; no, it was more of a sudden, unattractive spaz attack way than anything else. No boy has ever looked after me after one of my clumsy spells and gone "Aww you're so adorable!" Most people just laugh at this point; hell, I do most of the time too! This is not the first time, I assure you, drunk or otherwise, that I've faceplanted in front of a crowd.

As we made it to the seventh year boys' dorm, my embarrassment had all but subsided, but considering how dizzy I was feeling, I figured that perhaps Scorpius had been right and I needed to lie down for a bit.

"The room is swaying." Albus laughed.

"The room's not swaying, you are." He placed his hands on my shoulders and I stopped swaying. The room however did not.

"Nope, it's definitely the room," I groaned as a wave of nausea seized me.

"Are you okay?" He asked me, concerned. I shook my head no. "C'mere, lie down." He led me to the bed and I sat down. I leaned forward, putting my head between my legs, trying to make my nausea go away. Al sat down beside me. After a moment, he awkwardly rubbed my back, in what I suppose was meant to be a comforting way.

It wasn't that comforting. But hey, it's the thought that counts I guess? And it's not like I told him to stop. But that might be because I was too busy trying not to puke up all over the floor, Scorpius' bed, and my shoes.

We didn't say anything to each other. He continued to rub my back, eventually moving on to running his fingers through my hair. I continued to focus on not barfing. Finally, I lifted my head slowly and pressed my fingers into my temples. My nausea had subsided, but I could already feel a headache lying in wait for me.

"Do you have any pain relieving potion?" I asked.

"Yeah, hold on." He slid off the bed so that he was crouching on the floor and reached for his trunk under the bed.

Wait. His trunk? Under this bed?

Well, looks like I wasn't taking up Scorpius' sleeping spot after all.

"This is your bed?" I questioned. Maybe I was wrong. Perhaps he just stored his things under Scorpius' bed. Finally getting off the floor after rifling through his trunk, he handed me a vial of a bright red potion. I uncorked it and knocked it back without a second thought, hoping that it wouldn't make me nauseous again.

"Yeah, why?" I shrugged.

"No reason. Just thought it was Scorp's. Sorry I'm taking up your bed."

"It's fine. Not like I'm planning on going to sleep right now or anything."

"Yeah." God, this was awkward. Now, generally, I'm not an awkward person. But Albus clearly was. I didn't really know him, but he had always been rather shy. And who could blame him? His father is Harry Potter! Savior of the Wizarding World and all that. Poor sod must've been watched from when he was a baby. Doesn't help that people still stare at him in the hallways—although, I think it's mostly just first years at this point.

Some people, like his brother James, thrived on that attention. Albus never had. He was more introverted, less confident than his brother. I don't think being sorted into Slytherin helped; hell, it only made people talk more. Put the spotlight on him, when all he wanted to do was hide in the shadows.

I can't say that Albus Potter and I have had any sort of relationship. In fact, I think tonight is the first time we've said more than a couple words to each other. I see him occasionally, when I have lunch with Scorpius, but he keeps to himself when I show up at the Slytherin table. We've never been partners on a project for class, we have no good friends in common, except Scorpius, and he's never even dated one of my friends! Not that he's unattractive or anything; quite the opposite in fact. And girls certainly like him. Eve Spencer has had her eyes on him since fourth year. But Albus would never date a girl like Eve. He's actually a sweet guy. Eve's kind of a bitch. So, I can't quite see them getting together in the near future.

But the point is that Albus Potter and I know next to nothing about each other and this makes the fact that he is now taking care of a slightly less drunk than before me awkward. Awkward to the tenth power. Maximum awkward. Enough awkward to fill the Atlantic Ocean.

You get the idea?

Silence isn't something I enjoy. It's why I don't enjoy the library. And it is also why I was trying to find something to say. Any topic of conversation at all. Just something to make the silence go away.

"How're classes going?" I blurt out finally. Great. School. Wonderful topic. It's only the last thing I want to think about, let alone discuss with someone like Al Potter (who is just as smart as his cousin Rose, if you ask me), especially on a Saturday night.

Riveting conversation topic, Marian. Good going, old girl.

Talking to myself like this can't be healthy.

"They're fine."

"What are you taking?" I ask. Merlin, stop talking Marian!

"I'm taking Arithmancy, Charms, Defense, History of Magic, and Ancient Runes," he answered quietly. I leaned back on his bed, lying down.

"I guess that explains why we aren't friends."

"How so?"

"Well, I mean, we don't really have any classes together. Just Charms."

"You and Scorpius became friends in Potions, right?"

"Yeah." Silence again. The DJ must have returned, because I could hear music coming from the common room again.

"We could be friends, you and I, right?" I shrugged.

"Why not, Potter?"

"If we're going to be friends, then you should stop calling me Potter and call me Al." I smiled.

"Okay then, Al." And just that like an idea struck me. An idea I hoped would take away the awkwardness. "Wanna dance?"

"Dance?" He asked, balking at the idea. "Not fifteen minutes ago, you were going go puke. I'm not sure if jostling you about is a good idea."

"No it's a great idea! C'mon. I'm not nauseous anymore. And friends dance together."

"Friends dance together?" I nodded, absolutely sure, and pushed myself off the bed.

"_C'mon_!" I held out my hand. He rolled his eyes and sighed, grudgingly taking it. But he was smiling, so I took that as a good sign.

"Okay, fine." My smile widened, and instantly, I pulled him off the bed.

There was a problem to my plan, however. And that, my friends, were my high heeled shoes. I didn't waste another minute thinking about them. One hand went to Al's shoulder, to support myself; the other reached for my raised foot, trying to unclasp my shoe so I could slip it off.

I think it's already been established that I have no sense of balance.

Well, as it turns out, neither does Albus.

We tumbled to the ground, but that didn't deter me. I continued to fiddle with my shoe until I undid the clasp. I am thankful that I was still drunk enough not to care that I was all but on top of Al.

"Merlin, Campbell!" He pushed me off him gently and I began to laugh. Albus soon joined me. Finally, I slipped my shoe off and threw it across the room.

"Help me with the other one," I insisted, squirming about to get to my other shoe. We may not have been on top of each other anymore, but our limbs were still tangled, and this made getting to my shoe almost impossible. Al reached out played with the strap of my shoes. When he finally got it off, he threw across the room to join its friend. I continued to laugh, as Al began to sit up and extricate himself from me. The whole situation seemed so ridiculous to me. He stood up and picked me up off the ground, placing me on my feet still laughing. Without my heels on, the height difference between us was clearer. I stood at five foot five but Al was clearly over six feet.

"Well, shall we?" He took my hand and placed it on his shoulder, before clasping the other with his. His other hand settled on my waist.

"Seriously, Potter? This isn't the 1800s."

"Just…follow my lead."

We danced. I imagine to anyone else, the picture looked incredibly incongruous: us waltzing to the dance club music playing in the common room. But the longer we moved, the more fun I had. It was silly and innocent and sweet. It was nice not to have a dance that was all grinding and flirting and touching and sex. Albus Potter was a gentleman and it was good to know that there was a guy out there that wouldn't take advantage of my less than sober state.

When the song changed, so did our dance. From waltzing, we switched to swing dancing. But as he twirled me, the tear in my skirt pulled, making a slit that went all the way up to my hips and flashed poor Potter my knickers. He blushed. I laughed.

"Can I borrow a t-shirt or something?"

"Yeah, sure." Once more, Al was sorting through his trunk, this time looking for something for me to wear. "Here," he tossed me a Weird Sister's band t-shirt and stood up.

"Thanks." Without thinking, I reached behind me and unzipped my dress, shrugged it off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor.

"Marian! What are you doing?" The boy flushed further and quickly covered his eyes with his hands.

"What, Potter, never seen a girl in her knickers before?" I slipped the t-shirt over my head. It settled high on my thighs. To be honest, it covered less than my dress, but at least my knickers weren't showing. "There, I'm covered. You can look now." He lowered his hand only to bring it back up.

"Merlin, no you're not! Let me get you some pants or something." I laughed. Al was adorable when flustered. He went back to his trunk, determined to get me something to cover my legs. I rolled my eyes, but was amused. But while he dug through his trunk, I began to think.

Sometimes, I can be a bit evil. Sometimes, an idea gets a hold of me and I just can't let it go. Sometimes, I like to screw with people, just for the fun of it. Sometimes, I wonder if I would have been better off in Slytherin.

And in that moment, I was determined to get Albus Potter to kiss me.

I took a step forward, effectively invading Al's personal space. Dragging my finger slowly down his chest, I tilted my head upwards and smiled at him.

"Does my state of undress bother you?" I spoke softly, trying to make my voice breathless. "You know, most guys would be chomping at the bit to have a girl, dressed in one of their t-shirts and not much else, alone with them in their dormitory." He visibly gulped.

"I'm not most guys," he finally said. I wanted to smack him upside the head. Most boys would have seen that invitation for what it was.

"No, no you're not. You're definitely, _definitely_ not." I glanced at the floor for a moment, before flicking my gaze back upwards. I was trying to appear coquettish. Then I stood up on my tippy toes so I could whisper in his ear. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not being one of those guys." I fell back down to my normal height, but I reached up caressed the side of his face.

It was time for my secret weapon. Just one last step and then I knew the game would be won.

I bit my lip.

There was an intensity that flashed in Al's eyes before he shook his head, and took a giant step away from me. Nervously he ran a hand through his hair.

I stopped biting my lip as my mouth fell open with shock.

Seriously? _Seriously_?

Dear Merlin and Morgana, what does a girl have to do to get Albus Potter to kiss her?

He was fidgeting now, beginning to pace a bit. This wasn't going to work if he wasn't paying attention to me. I reached for his arm and pulled him closer to me. I laced my fingers through his and squeezed lightly. I bit my lip again, but Al was already looking to my left.

"The party's probably going to wind down soon. It's getting late. If you want, I can walk you back to the Hufflepuff common room. Or you can stay here. I don't mind sleeping on the floor."

"I don't want you to sleep on the floor." I was giving it another shot. Perhaps I had just been too subtle. Boys don't do well with subtlety. I was going to have to make this a little more obvious. I reached up and toyed with the collar of his shirt and looked at him from under my lashes. I might have even given them a little flutter.

"Then I'll walk you to Hufflepuff."

"Now, why would you do a thing like that? I don't mind staying here."

"I don't understand. I mean, I guess we could share the bed, but it's not that big and it wouldn't be comfortable for either of us. Really, it would be better if you let me walk you back to your common room. Scorpius would kill me if he knew I just let you go. Or if you don't feel up to going back, I really don't mind sleeping on the floor." I sighed heavily, my sweet, bashful expression changing to one of exasperation. I put my hand on my hip and cocked my head to the side.

"Al," I said curtly. He jumped slightly at my tone. Christ, this boy was skittish.

"Yeah?"

"Would you just bloody kiss me already?" Yup. Not subtle at all. Pretty blunt if you ask me.

"Oh."

"Yes."

"_Oh_," he said again. He still didn't make a move.

"Okay, that's it." I grabbed his shirt and pulled him to me, smashing my lips to his. When I closed my eyes, furthering the kiss, his eyes were still open and stunned. But eventually, I coaxed his lips to moving against mine. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close as I let go of his shirt and encircled his neck. We stumbled to the bed, still entangled with one another, lips moving frantically, limbs moving frantically.

Clothes came off. Rather quickly, I might add. Al may have been slow to figure out what I wanted, but once I had spelled it out for him, he didn't hesitate in the slightest.

A lady never kisses and tells.

I'm no lady, but I do have some standards. So you're not going to get the details.

But since you're all wondering, yes Al Potter is a _fabulous_ kisser.

* * *

><p>It was the wee hours of the morning when I woke up, still wrapped up in Albus Potter. Snores filled the boys' dormitory, indicating that we were no longer alone; but luckily, we'd had the presence of mind to close the hangings last night before everyone came up. My head ached a little bit and my mouth was dry, but considering how much I'd had to drink the night before, I was pretty well off. Al was asleep next to me and I blushed.<p>

Oh God.

In the harsh light of morning, all I could feel was regret. Fortunately (or unfortunately, I wasn't quite sure), I wasn't drunk enough when it happened to have blacked out. I remembered everything.

Merlin, I was an awful person. What had possessed me to… play with a person like that, let alone a person as good as Albus Potter.

And then on top of the regret fell a wave of shame and I winced. In his sleep, Al snuggled closer to me and I thought, in that moment, I might actually be sick. Carefully, I lifted his arm from around my waist and slipped out from underneath his hold. Gently placing his arm back on the bed, I sat up slowly and peeked out from behind the hangings. Luckily when we…_got it on_ last night, we didn't throw our clothes everywhere. My bra and panties were at the bottom of the bed. Al's t-shirt was next to my dress on the floor.

Oh, that wasn't good. I hoped that the boys were too drunk when they stumbled in to notice my torn dress on the floor. I ducked back behind the hangings once more. Grabbing my underclothes, I slipped them on slowly, so as not to disturb Al. I stood up and slipped out, closing the hangings behind me. I picked up Al's t-shirt and slipped it over my head once more, blushing profusely when I recalled Al taking it off me hours before. I picked up my dress too. In the dark, I couldn't make out where my black shoes were; I abandoned them. Besides, shoes were easier to explain away than a dress.

Without looking back, I quietly made my way to the door and exited the Slytherin Boys' Dormitory. No one stirred as I made my hasty get away. I came across no one in the halls on my way back to Hufflepuff, thank Merlin, Christ, and God. And no one arose when I sneaked back into the Girls' Dormitory. I slipped into bed, but I didn't fall back asleep. As I laid there, a new emotion mixed with the toxic combination of regret and shame: guilt.

I know you're judging me, just a slight bit.

But I did warn you at the beginning: I am anything but a saint.

* * *

><p>AN: Now, I had no intention of starting anything new. But this idea came about when I was talking to **solitaireclay07** about things that annoyed us in fanfiction. And then the plot bunny grew and grew to the point where I couldn't ignore it anymore. This is not meant to be an epically long fic. There are going to be 10 chapters and I doubt most of them will be as long as this one.

So I'm just going to say it. **This fic deals with abortion**. If you are uncomfortable with this issue, turn back now. And just in case you didn't read the note at the beginning, I'm going to repeat myself: **please keep your opinions to yourself.**

Thank you for reading and if you'd like to leave a review on your way out, I'd appreciate it. If this story garners any interest, I'll likely continue with it as soon as possible.

NaP


	2. October

Stay Young, Go Dancing

Chapter 2-October

_It takes the truth to fool me and now you've made me angry_—"I Can't Decide" by Scissor Sisters

"He's staring at you again," Dmitri murmured to me, flipping a page of his book. I looked up from my porridge. Yup. There he was. Staring at me. I schooled my expression to remain impassive and lowered my gaze.

"How did you know?" I asked him, my voice equally as hushed. We were sitting at the Ravenclaw table and while that usually meant that even if I was overheard, it wouldn't get spread around, I didn't want to risk it.

"I didn't. Chances were that he was staring at you. I just wanted to see if you would look too. Being right about it was just icing on the cake." He took a bite of toast and I glared at him.

"That was mean." He shrugged.

"So are you." I winced audibly, which caused him to stop reading his book and give me a look. I blushed, knowing that he was right.

Dmitri Morozov was a very good friend of mine. We met each other on the very first day of Hogwarts, when I sat down in his compartment on the train and demanded that he be my friend. The child of a rich Russian ex-pat who died under suspicious circumstances (most of the public declared in not so hushed whispers that he was murdered by a Russian spy) and a mother who married and divorced men more often than she changed her socks, Dmitri was more than a little socially awkward. He had a tendency to be rather…blunt in his observations.

The Hufflepuff Queen Bees found his bluntness to be rather off-putting. They didn't approve of him, even though Dmitri was by all standards one of the most good looking boys in the school. With short blonde hair, ice blue eyes, and cheek bones that could cut glass, Dmitri held himself with such regal air that it wouldn't be far off to assume he was some type of Russian aristocrat. Back in fourth year, quite a few girls in the school had been infatuated with Dmitri, until they tried to make their move and Dmitri opened his mouth.

I'm pretty sure it was the incident where Dmitri told a very pretty, popular Gryffindor that she wore so much makeup she looked like a prostitute that finally put him on the Romantic Blacklist. Not that he cared. He was much more interested in his books. As far as he could tell, most of the girls at school weren't worth his time to even notice them. There was only one girl that had ever caught his eye, but not even I knew who she was. Dmitri, for all his blunt honesty, was tight lipped about his romantic life. He knew social interactions weren't his forte, so he had never built up the confidence to even talk to her. I did my best to encourage him, but considering that I didn't even know who he was so in love with, it was difficult for me to give him advice.

I was sitting with Dmitri today because of Al's staring. It had been two weeks since the party and Al's gaze seemed to follow me everywhere. I still hadn't plucked up the courage to talk to him. I was no Gryffindor, that's for sure. The other Hufflepuff girls, or Queen Bees as I like to call them, were starting to ask questions.

And I most definitely did not want them to know anything about that night.

If even one of them found out, well then, so would Eve Spencer. And that girl already made my life hell.

So I had been dodging them for the past couple of days. Thankfully, Dmitri didn't mind that I was using him as an escape from the prying interrogation of my friends. But unfortunately, in order to sit with him, I had owed him an explanation.

Not that I needed to explain a lot. Dmitri was smart. He had deduced what had happened for the most part just from Al's staring and my determined avoidance of Potter. It wasn't the first time I had accidentally led a guy on, he concluded. The signs were all pretty clear. I did it unintentionally at times, he assured me, once he saw the shock and guilt on my face.

This only made me feel even more horrible when I had to, in this case, grudgingly admit that it was all my own damn fault.

"So when are you going to talk to the poor sod?" He sipped his pumpkin juice, but continued to read his book.

"Never, if I can help it."

"Oh, it's hardly his fault that you two slept together and things are now awkward."

"Actually, it probably is. I'm not awkward. You know I'm not awkward. It can't possibly be my fault for things being awkward right now."

"You're just as awkward as the rest of us. You're just better at hiding it. And if I had to hazard a guess, I wouldn't say that it's Potter's infectious awkwardness that is making things strained between you two, but rather the fact that you slunk off before he woke after you seduced him."

"I did not seduce him!" Dmitri shot me another look and I promptly shoved some porridge into my mouth. Thankfully, the post arrived at that moment, interrupting our conversation. Dmitri's Great Gray Owl, Nevsky, landed elegantly between us, a letter attached to his leg. Dmitri carefully removed the missive while stroking the owl across its head. He murmured something to the bird in Russian and with a screech, Nevsky took off, presumably to the owlry. Dmitri tucked the letter in the back of his book, but didn't open it.

I saw this as an opportunity to change the subject and get the focus off me once more. Dmitri had suggested more than once that I talk to Albus. His reasoning was that the sooner we talked it out, the sooner he would stop staring at me and I could return to the Hufflepuff table to gossip and talk about all the girly things I needed to and Dmitri could finally return to his reading in peace.

Psh. Fat chance of that ever happening.

Now that I knew that I annoyed him while reading (I had previously thought him to be immune to my purposeful obnoxiousness), I was going to bug him every chance I got from now until the end of the year.

"A letter from lady love, perhaps?" Dmitri snorted.

"C'mon now, Marian, don't be an idiot. You know that I've never actually talked to her. Why the hell would I receive a letter from her?"

"Secret admirer, perhaps?" I teased.

"You know as well as I do that the letter is from my mother." I sighed.

"You take all the fun out of guessing who writes to you."

"Nobody but my mother ever writes to me."

"Your Uncle Ivan does."

"Uncle Vanya (1) doesn't count."

"How come your uncle doesn't count, but your mother does?"

"Because I don't care at all for Uncle Vanya's letters. All he ever writes is to ask me to talk my mother into giving him more money to support his alcohol and gambling habits." The conversation stalled for a second.

"Aren't you going to open the letter?" Dmitri shrugged.

"I'm already aware of the contents. She never writes anything new."

"You don't know that. What if she's getting married again? Or divorced for that matter?"

"Both, I'm sure. It's been six months. It's about time for me to have a new step-father."

"Don't you want to know who step-daddy number five is?"

"Number six. And not particularly, no. If I'm lucky, I can avoid ever having to meet him."

"Read your letter, Dmitri," I prodded.

"Why?" he asked with a little guffaw.

"Because you have a mother who can write to you," I simpered and Dmitri rolled his eyes.

"Did anyone ever tell you how annoying you are when you pull the dead mother card?"

"You have. Multiple times."

"I'm not opening the letter."

"Then at least let me take a look." He laughed, like this was the most ridiculous thing he had heard in days.

"Fine, have at it." He plucked the letter from the back of his book and slid it across the table to me. Hastily, I tore open the letter, unfolded it and stared at the unfamiliar script before me.

"Dmitri?"

"Yes?"

"This letter is in Russian."

"Da." (2)

"I can't read Russian," I mentioned, annoyed.

"I know."

"Then why did you give it to me?"

"Thought it might shut you up for a moment." Another page of the book flipped.

"You're an awful person."

"I'm among good company, then."

"Dmitri, read your letter and tell me what it says." He sighed and held out his hand, motioning for me to hand the parchment back to him. He closed his book carefully, noting the page number, and turned his attention to the letter, scanning it quickly.

"Hmm."

"Hmm?" I repeated.

"Starts off the usual way."

"And what way is that?"

"Mitya (3), do well in school. Mitya, have you been eating well? Mitya, have you found a girl to marry yet? Mitya, did you know that, at your age, your father and I had already been dating two years? Mitya, when are you going to find a nice Russian girl and settle down? Mitya, I'd be happy to introduce you to Tatiana Alexandrovna's grandniece. She would make you a good wife, if only you would stop being so lazy and get out there and date."

"Well…that's…interesting."

"Not at all. In fact, it's quite dull at this point. She's been offering to introduce me to Tatiana Alexandrovna's grandniece for three years now." I snorted unattractively at this, but didn't care.

"Now, what does the rest of the letter say?"

"Don't be impatient. I'm reading. She's talking about our dog, Lyuba." He flipped the page. "Yup, more about Lyuba. Nothing interesting here at all."

"I didn't know you had a dog," I commented. He shrugged.

"Not really mine. She's a tiny little thing, hardly any hair. Looks more like a rat than a dog. Follows my mother around hopelessly and growls at me if I ever attempt to touch her. Not that I've done that more than once. She really doesn't bear mentioning. My mother, however, clearly thinks the opposite as she's just written two and a half pages about what the dog did this past weekend."

"The more I find out about your mother each year, the gladder I am that I've never actually met the woman."

"Oh, I only introduce the people I dislike to my mother. She gets rid of them rather quick." He read a bit more and frowned, frantically reading the next page.

"Aww, you like me. You just admitted it!" He held up a finger and shushed me, reading intently."What's happened?" I asked.

"That's interesting," he remarked, not paying attention to my question.

"What is?"

"Yes, that's quite curious."

"Dmitri, tell me what's happened!" I demanded with an impatient whine.

"No."

"No?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, no."

"What?" He sighed.

"Yes, the answer is no. I'm not going to tell you."

"Dmitri," I realized I sounded like a five year old throwing a tantrum in the market because her mother refused to buy her a pack of gum, "tell me!"

"I will."

"You will?" I was shocked. Dmitri never caved this easily. We had once had a "did not"/ "did too" argument for three days. I lost. Something was definitely up.

"On one condition." Ah, my intuition was correct. There is always a catch.

"And that condition is, my dear sir?"

"Well, Lady Marian, you need to go talk to your dashing knight in shining armor." I groaned.

"But I don't want to."

"Really? You hadn't mentioned that at all!" Sarcasm. How original. I rolled my eyes, but Dmitri ignored me. "I've got to head to class and so do you. You've got double Care of Magical Creatures this morning." I groaned.

I hated Care of Magical Creatures. I was _afraid_ of the creatures. But I needed the N.E.W.T. to help balance out my course load and because I wanted to do something with Potions and part of Potions was understanding where your ingredients came from and how to harvest them.

Sadly, some Potions ingredients came from the very magical creatures I was afraid to get near.

Dmitri didn't wait for me to drag my feet to class; he had already stood up, intent on leaving the Great Hall, and heading towards the Transfiguration classroom.

"If you want to find him, he has a free period after lunch. He's usually in the library doing homework."

I didn't even want to know why Dmitri knew Al's schedule.

* * *

><p>After lunch, I did manage to meander to the library. Not to talk to Al though. I had to get a book for a Charms essay I was assigned earlier that week. If Albus happened to be there, though…<p>

As I wandered through the stacks of books in the Charms section, I kept glancing out of the corner of my eye to see if Dmitri was right and Al was in the library. Dmitri really was right; we needed to talk. I had said that we could be friends that night, before I got it in my head to muck everything up. And if we were going to be friends, then we needed to be able to talk to each other and move past that regretful night.

I did stumble across Al eventually. He was at a table in the back, sitting by the Transfiguration section, but he wasn't alone. Scorpius was with him. So I hung out in the stacks, waiting for an opportunity to arise where I could talk to Al alone. Making myself look interested in Transfiguration was harder than I thought it would be. The subject always baffled me and just looking at the titles of books right now made me want to run for the hills.

I'm pretty sure Transfiguration gives me hives.

Gradually, I got closer, trying to hear a snippet of their conversation—not because I wanted to eavesdrop mind you! I was hoping to figure out if it might be over soon, or if I should just abandon this idea all together and try again some other time.

"So you're telling me that Marian Campbell was up in our dorm with you, _alone_, and nothing happened?"

Oh. So that's what they were talking about.

"Nope, nothing happened. We've already been over this, Scorp." Al sounded weary of the question.

"I'm just having a hard time believing it, is all."

"Believing what, exactly?"

"That I give you a great opportunity for you to finally make your goddamn move and you chicken out." Al shrugged.

"It wasn't the right moment."

"Dude, you need to stop this right moment bullshit. Because it was a moment, and it may be the only moment you ever get, regardless of it being right or wrong. You should have just told her you fancied her."

Um…_what_?

"It just…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You and your romantic, happily ever after bollocks." Albus snorted, but went back to his homework. I knew I should take that as my cue to leave, to ignore this conversation which I was most certainly not supposed to hear, but I was rooted to the spot.

Al Potter…_fancied _me? Fancied _me_?

But…why?

The guilt flared up again, stronger than ever before.

"You're sure nothing happened? Not even a moment of locked eyes or a blush or something?" Oh great, Scorpius was suspicious. I suppose it was my fault. He had handed me my shoes back in Potions, the day after the party. I had blushed a cherry red, but other than that, had kept my cool. Even then, I could feel his eyes on me, dissecting my reaction. Something didn't add up in the mind of Scorpius Malfoy and rightfully so.

I didn't know if I was unsettled or comforted by the fact that Albus hadn't confided to Scorpius what had happened that night.

"Nothing of importance, no."

"Nothing of importance? So that means something happened?" Al shrugged.

"She was drunk off her ass, so I helped her a bit when she was feeling sick and we talked for a little while."

"That's it?"

"We danced a bit too. That's how her shoes got across the room. She took them off when we started."

"You danced with Marian, but you didn't have the guts just lean down and kiss her?" No, no he did not.

"What do you want me to say, Scorpius? Yeah, I had an opportunity, but I didn't take it. Besides, Marian demonstrated that she doesn't like me in that way."

"How?" Albus didn't answer right away, so Scorpius repeated the question.

"She made it clear that we could be friends, but that she wasn't interested in more." Scorpius frowned at this statement, his brows drawn together in slight confusion.

"But we knew that, yeah? It's not exactly a secret that's Marian is a no-strings attached kind of girl."

"I know, but I guess I just thought that she might be like that because…"he trailed off.

"Because she was secretly harboring feelings for you, but was too afraid to express them?" Albus blushed.

"It's as ridiculous as it sounds, isn't it?"

"More." Al sighed and silence settled upon the two for some time.

"I guess," Al spoke so quietly I could barely hear him, "I just figured out that she's not what I'm looking for. And I'm just…disappointed. It's hard to reconcile reality with the image I've had of her for so long in my head."

I had heard enough. Hell, I had heard far too much. The quiet finality in his voice broke something in me and I wasn't sure what it was or why. Despair mixed in with the guilt and the shame and the regret (all of which had yet to subside, due to his constant staring reminding me of my mistake) and my chest ached slightly, the tell tale sign that I was about to cry. My eyes welled up but I refused to let a tear fall.

I certainly didn't deserve the release of emotion. No, I would punish myself, keep my feelings in, and hopefully they would be a reminder for me to not make the same mistake again. Although, considering this is me we're talking about, I was bound to do something stupid like this in the not too distant future.

My father always remarked that I never learned from my mistakes.

As quietly as I slipped in, I left the Transfiguration section of and exited the library, completely forgetting about the book I needed for my Charms essay.

* * *

><p>Potter's staring subsided quite a bit after that day. Occasionally, I could still feel his gaze on me, but it was mostly just side eyed glances that never lasted long. With the staring all but finished, I was able to move back to the Hufflepuff table, now able to face the questions of the Queen Bees. It was a blessing, as Dmitri constantly teased me about talking to Potter, which only got me increasingly upset.<p>

I don't know why. I chalked it up to the fact that no one liked to be informed that they were a disappointment.

It wasn't like I actually liked Albus back. I mean, _I didn't even know him_. That conversation in his room was the first time we had really interacted. And I guess, in those few, brief, precious moments, I saw something that I liked too. Not like _that_. More like…I thought highly of Albus.

And it hurt, oh did it hurt, to know that my stupid actions caused him to think less of me.

I don't usually care what people think about me. And I know for a fact that people have said a whole lot worse about me than "I'm disappointed in her". But I rarely know who those people are and I certainly have never desired their good opinion. But for whatever reason, I wanted Albus to have a good opinion of me. And knowing that now, he probably didn't, well…if I couldn't face him before, I definitely couldn't face him now.

So life may have gone back to normal, but I certainly didn't. In fact, it turned out that _I_ was the one staring at _Albus_. Discretely, I assure you. Nobody noticed. But I stared at him, nonetheless.

I suppose it's a good thing that we only have one class together or else someone might have caught on. And sure, I stared at him in the Great Hall, but only when I knew no one else was watching.

Today I hadn't been able to set eyes on Albus yet. He wasn't at breakfast and, since I had no afternoon classes, I hunkered down in the kitchens to do work instead of eating lunch in the Great Hall. The kitchens were perhaps the worst kept secret in all of Hogwarts history. Most students knew where they were located and by their third year had made at least one midnight snack run there without getting caught. I had moved to a table in the back of the kitchens last year, when more free periods opened up in my schedule, because I was no longer required to take every class that was offered. Dropping things like Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration meant that I had more time to focus on the work that I was doing towards my N.E.W.T.s.

Unfortunately, the extra time at random intervals meant that there were less people around when I was doing work.

Scratch your head all you like, but I can't do homework in silence. It's why I avoid going to the library unless I absolutely need a book for a project. And even then, I'll check out the book and take it down to the kitchens with me. Before sixth year, when I didn't have a lot of free periods strewn out over the week, there were enough people in the common room after classes that satisfied my need for noise.

So now I did my homework during my free periods in the kitchens. The house elves were always fussing around and they didn't mind my presence, as long as I stayed out of the way.

It still didn't stop them from hoisting food on me every time I walked through the portrait hole. I had learned early on to just skip my meal in the Great Hall before coming here, or else my lack of appetite would make the house elves upset.

So today I was munching on an apple and working on an essay for Herbology on the magical properties of the Mimbulus Mimbletonia and its Stinksap (fascinating, I assure you), when there was a small commotion in the kitchen that could only mean one things. I was no longer alone. Looking up from my parchment, my mouth fell open as Al stood in the doorway, more than a little overwhelmed by the swarm of house elves that arrived to serve him. I closed my mouth, swallowed my apple and, when his eyes finally rested on me, gave a small wave in greeting. Bent forward once again, I picked up my quill and tried to focus on Herbology again and hoped that Al would get whatever he needed from the house elves and not talk to me.

This, of course, did not happen.

"Hi Marian."

"Hey Al." Silence. Oh the silence. Not even the hustle and bustle of the house elves helped to put me at ease.

"Could we talk?"

"Yeah, sure." I motioned for him to take a seat across from me at the table. He sat. I waited for him to start. He looked anxious and fidgety, like he was having a hard time organizing his thoughts and picking a place to start.

"What are you working on?"

"Herbology," I answered curtly. "But my homework isn't what you want to talk about."

"No, no it isn't." I sat still, holding my breath for his next words. "It's just, well…a couple weeks ago, at the party…"He trailed off. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, like talking to me was causing him pain.

"That shouldn't have happened. I was drunk and felt like a bit of fun. It didn't mean anything." I blurted out. He stilled and I could feel his eyes on me, but mine were focused intently on my essay. He didn't say anything so I continued. "And I know it's not an excuse. But it was a mistake on my part—a stupid, drunken mistake, and I don't want it to come between us. Because, the thing is…I like you Al. A lot. You're a good guy. And it was stupid of me to just leave, but I panicked, but I should have stayed and talked it out a bit with you. But I just…didn't want anyone to know." I chanced a look up at him and was surprised to see that he wasn't enraged. I thought he would have been angry, but he looked impassive…almost cold.

"I just wanted to ask you if I could have my shirt back." I felt like he had punched me in the stomach.

"Um yeah, sure. I have it right here."

"You do?" He asked, confused, as I picked up my bag from the floor and rummaged through it.

"Yeah, I've been carrying it around, trying to figure out a way to give it back to you. Here." Really, I just didn't want to leave it in the dorm for one of the girls to find. I handed him back the shirt and he took it from me, careful not to brush his fingers and mine.

"Well, it's a bit hard to get it back to me when you avoid me at every turn." I flushed.

"I wasn't avoiding you." He snorted.

"C'mon now, Campbell. A bloke tends to notice when a girl turns in the opposite direction the minute she lays eyes on him. You might want to stop that, by the way, it's causing people to talk. And since you worked so hard to make sure people don't find out, you're going to blow your own cover."

"Well…well…you were staring at me. For weeks." I countered, my voice slightly strangled. Al rolled his eyes.

"Yes, because you were running away from me. Besides, I'm not the one staring now, am I?" My mouth dropped open, dumbfounded as I wracked my brain for a response. He knew I had been staring at him.

"You knew?" I squeaked out. Al scoffed.

"Of course I knew, Campbell. You're not as subtle as you like to believe. You'll probably want to stop that too, before someone catches on." He stood up after that, folding his shirt and throwing it over his wrist.

"Al…"

"What, Campbell?"

"You said we should be friends. That night. You said we should be friends." Al shrugged.

"Yeah, well, the Marian Campbell I thought I wanted to be friends with doesn't exist. I suppose I should be thanking you; you saved me the time it would have taken me to figure that out." He turned on his heel and walked to the portrait hole, stopping only to call over his shoulder, "You should eat breakfast with Scorpius tomorrow. He's starting to wonder what's going on with you."

* * *

><p>AN: (1) Vanya is a nickname for Ivan; (2) Da means yes in Russian; (3) Mitya is a nickname for Dmitri.

Hope you enjoy this chapter. I appreciate all the support I've gotten so far for this story. Feel free to leave a review on your way out.


	3. November

Stay Young, Go Dancing

Chapter 3—November

_There's a moment you know you're fucked_—"Totally Fucked" from Spring Awakening

"Miss Campbell, if I could speak with you in my office?" Nausea had hit me a couple days ago and so I stayed in bed. What I had thought was a small bug, passed and I had even made it to my afternoon classes. But then it came back. And stayed. And I couldn't get rid of it for the life of me. The achiness that I felt combined with the constant desire to throw up is what forced me to come down to the hospital wing and I had been there all afternoon while Madame Sullivan ran her tests and so I could rest. I generally avoided the hospital wing, as it was yet another place in this castle that seemed required to be constantly quiet. I was the only person on the wing today, so I didn't even have anyone to talk to. Luckily for me, I was tired and slept for most of the time I was down here.

Now it seemed that my test results were in and, hopefully, Madame Sullivan could give me a potion to cure whatever illness I had and send me on my way. I didn't want to be down here more than necessary. So sitting down in her office, I awaited her pronouncements on my health.

Madame Sullivan looked very serious as she flipped open a folder with what I assumed were my test results. "Miss Campbell, I'm afraid that what I have to discuss with you is rather sensitive. So before we begin, I would like to remind you that anything and everything that gets discussed in this room is entirely confidential."

"Is everything okay, Madame Sullivan?" I had been in Madame Sullivan's office more than once in my seven years at Hogwarts and never before had she ever brought up confidentiality. It had always been implied, but never spelled out explicitly. It made me concerned. Very concerned.

"You are, for all intents and purposes, entirely healthy, Miss Campbell."

"Then why am I feeling so sick?"

"Miss Campbell…" Madame Sullivan pursed her lips, "I am not naïve enough to think that young people your age are…how do I put this…not engaging in sexual activity."

I caught on quicker than you would probably think. At the mention of sex, I didn't flush, but rather, all blood drained from my face and I gripped the armrest of the chair I was sitting on tightly. I knew exactly where the conversation was going, and oh how I wished for Madame Sullivan to prove me wrong.

"That being said, I must inform you that you are pregnant, which explains your fatigue, nausea, and achiness." This sentence paralyzed me. I had no thoughts, could not move, could not speak. Madame Sullivan continued. "You have options." She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a couple pamphlets. She handed them over to me, but I didn't take them. Eventually, she placed them on the desk in front of me. "But I would need to mention that, should you keep the child, I will need to inform the headmaster, so that appropriate medical measures can be taken. At Hogwarts, we will support your decision and do whatever is necessary for you to continue with your education."

"I'm not keeping it," I blurted out. It was perhaps the first thought that wandered through my stunned mind. Madame Sullivan sighed.

"It is a large decision, one that you should not make right now, or on your own. Please, take the pamphlets, let this sink in a bit, talk with your partner about it, and then make a decision. Come back to me in a couple days, and I can help you make any arrangements you need."

"I'm not going to change my mind."

"I still think you should have a chance to process this before making a decision. Now, you may stay here for a while longer, if you need to, or I can clear you to go back to your common room to get some rest."

"I…I think, that I'll go back to the common room." She nodded understandingly.

"Well, in that case, please feel free to come back at any time, should you be feeling ill again, Miss Campbell." She picked up the pamphlets again and forced them into my hands; I had no other option but to accept them. Shakily, I stood and exited her office and the hospital wing. I had no intention of going back to the Hufflepuff common room, but I couldn't stay there another moment longer. I gripped the pamphlets in my hand tightly, crumpling them, as I walked unsteadily down the hallway.

The last thing I needed to do was think, contrary to what Madame Sullivan thought. What I needed was for this baby to be gone. Or a time turner to go back in time and stop myself from sleeping with Al. Tears welled up in my eyes and for once, I let them fall. I felt that I deserved it this time. Besides, the feeling was so fierce I had no chance of stopping once it started.

Sobbing, I crumpled on the floor of the deserted hallway. I don't know how long I was there crying, but luckily no one came by to bother me. It must have been about dinner time, I thought, which would explain why all the corridors were free of students. With everyone safe in the Great Hall, I wiped my face of tears and looked down at the nearly unrecognizable pamphlets before me. I smoothed them out carefully and picked up the one on abortion. I read through it quickly, learning about the procedure and its risks, before my eyes settled on a number that made me break out into tears again.

Sixty. Sixty galleons. That's how much it would cost me. And I knew for a fact that, in my vault at Gringotts was just over thirty galleons, the leftovers of my summer earnings working at Sugarplum's Sweets Shop in Diagon Alley. There were five more galleons in my trunk, to be used in Hogsmeade and to buy my father a Christmas gift. But thirty five galleons wasn't enough. And the longer I waited, the more expensive it would be.

I could ask my dad, but that was out of the question. This much money…well, we certainly didn't have it lying around. And I wouldn't be able to tell him why. I couldn't disappoint him like that. Our relationship was so…fragile. Don't get me wrong, I love my father, but he didn't really know anything about me. He comes home from work and we talk about the weather, work, and occasionally I tell him about school. Then he turns on the telly and we watch programs together until he goes to bed. Perhaps it was because I spent more than half the year away, in Scotland. Perhaps it was because I was part of a different world, one that he didn't belong in and had never made the effort to understand. Perhaps it was because he never got over my mother's death. But there was a canyon of non-communication between us and now was not the time to fill it in. No, my father would never know about this. Ever.

So I was really left with just one option. And I didn't like it any better than asking my father for help. But at the very least, it wouldn't damage a relationship with the only man alive I could actually call family. So drying my eyes, I stood, pamphlet still clutched in my hand and went off in search of Albus Potter.

* * *

><p>It took me some time to find him. I had first peaked into the Great Hall but he wasn't there, so I checked the kitchens and the library, but didn't find him. Finally I wandered down to the dungeons and asked the first Slytherin I could find if they would let me in the common room or search for Al for me. The boy—he looked like a fifth year—gave me a look, before he shrugged and told me to wait outside in the hallway. He'd let Potter know I was looking for him.<p>

So I waited. And paced. And what was probably only about ten minutes seemed to stretch on for _hours_. Then the portrait opened and Al stepped out, only to stop in his tracks, his face a mixture of confused, shocked, and annoyed.

"When Williams told me that there was a pretty redhead waiting outside the portrait, I thought for sure that he was talking about Rose." I shrugged.

"Uh…yeah, obviously I'm not."

"What do you want, Campbell?"

"I need to talk to you. Somewhere where we won't be overheard." Al rolled his eyes.

"Look, Marian, I know I was a bit harsh a couple weeks ago, but I think it's best if we just let things lie." I shook my head.

"No. _No_. It's important. And I know you made things quite clear as to how things between us are, but…I need your help. And I wouldn't ask unless I didn't have another choice."

"Marian…I don't know." Al looked torn between wanting to acquiesce to my request and wanting to run back into the Slytherin Common Room and shut the portrait firmly behind him.

"Please," I pleaded, my voice cracking slightly, tears building back up in my eyes. I was sure I was a mess from all the crying I had done earlier and with my composure failing me once more, I'm sure I looked every bit as pathetic as I felt.

"Is everything okay, Marian?" I swallowed thickly.

"No." I croaked.

"What's happened?" I bit my lip—not trying to be sexy or seducing this time. No, I was just genuinely nervous.

"Not here. Please. Somewhere no one else will hear what we say."

"Okay, okay, follow me." I must have sounded frantic, because Albus took me by the hand and comfortingly ran his thumb over my knuckles before gently leading down the hall. We ducked into an empty classroom abruptly and I stumbled. Albus didn't steady me, like he had done at the party, so I ran into a desk and hissed slightly at the contact. That was going to bruise. Al turned towards the door and performed an Imperturbable Charm. "There, no one will over hear us now. So are you going to tell me why you sought me out in the Slytherin common room on the verge of tears?"

"Like I said before, I need your help. I need a favor. And I realize how inappropriate it is for me to ask, considering that you basically told me that you hated me and didn't want anything to do with me—and rightfully so—but I can't do this by myself and I can't ask anyone else. No one can know about this. But before I ask my favor I need to tell you something."

"Can you get to the point, Campbell?" He was irritated. "I have ten pages of ancient runes to translate."

"Um…I'm pregnant." He breathed in so sharply I could hear it. Exhaling, dragged his hand across his jaw, stretching out his face. There was no yelling, no screaming, no tears, no paralyzing shock apparent in his face. He was certainly taking it better than I did. Better than I thought he would.

"Are you even sure it's mine?" Or maybe not. I let out a disbelieving laugh.

"No, I'm telling you for shits and giggles. Of course it's yours!"

"Well, even you have to admit, Campbell, that you have a sort of um…reputation."

"Just because people say I've slept with half the school doesn't mean that I have. I've slept with four people. _Four people_. Including yourself. And just because I like sex or a random snog in a broom cupboard with a boy whose name I don't know, that doesn't make me a bad person. You may have a pretty poor opinion of me, and maybe that's mostly my own fault, but I've never given you any reason to think that I would lie to you, especially about something like this."

"Geez, sorry Campbell. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Yes you did."

"Oh, come off it, Campbell. I apologized." He sighed. "So you're pregnant. And it's mine."

"It's yours," I confirmed.

"Merlin. This is not ideal."

"No, it's not."

"I'm not marrying you."

"I never asked you to!" I interjected, quickly, appalled. "Merlin, that'd be a disaster." I laughed at the picture in my head of us married. Albus quickly joined in. When our laughter died down, silence bore down on us heavily.

"My parents are going to kill me." Al said and for the first time since I told him my news, he looked apprehensive.

"Your parents are never going to find out."

"It's not like we can hide a baby from them Marian. I know we spend a lot of time away from home, but I think my parents will figure it out when I come back from school with you and a baby in tow." He groaned then. "Oh man."

"What?"

"_Your_ parents. Your dad's not going to come and kill me or anything, is he?"

"Definitely not. Like I said, they'll never know."

"I don't quite get your meaning."

"Well, it has to do with the favor I have to ask you."

"Go on then."

"When I said no one is going to know about this, I was serious. The only people who know are you, me, and Madame Sullivan. And it's going to stay that way. Got it?"

"Yeah, geez, got it. I'm not going to tell anyone about this."

"You can't. Not Scorpius. Not Rose. Not anyone."

"I can keep things to myself, you know."

"Okay. I'm not keeping the baby."

"What?"

"I'm getting an abortion. And I need your help to pay for it."

"Don't I get a say in this?"

"_No_," I said, pausing for a moment to search for the words I needed to explain. "I'm not having this baby, Al. I don't _want_ this baby. And I refuse to give birth to it and then raise it while resenting it. It…just…wouldn't be a good idea."

"But what if—"

"No, Al. No what ifs. We're seventeen! We have our whole lives ahead of us. And neither of us…well, we're not in love or anything. It would be different if we were in a relationship, maybe. But we're not. And considering I screwed up any possibility of us being friends, we don't even have that. There's nothing but animosity between us and I don't think it's fair to bring a baby into the middle of it." He didn't react right away; instead he just stared blankly at me, processing what I had told him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose you're right." He finally admitted. He dropped into a seat at one of the empty desks and buried his face in his hands. "So you said you need money?"

"The abortion costs sixty galleons."

"_Sixty_ galleons!" He dropped his hands from his face and looked up at me, shocked.

"I have thirty."

"Even then, I don't exactly have thirty galleons lying around, ready to be used whenever I feel like it."

"Well, isn't your family rich?" I pressed.

"Yeah, my _family_ is. But I can't exactly get at that money without telling my parents _why_ I need it. I don't even have my own vault, yet!" I felt like my one glimmer of hope was going out.

"Oh Merlin, what am I going to do?" I sat down next to him. We didn't say anything for a while, but for once, the silence didn't bother me. I felt defeated, deflated. But…just knowing that there was someone else in this, that I wasn't alone, comforted me.

"I think I can get the money." Al said from next to me. I barely heard him, as he had his head bent low and buried in his arms, a hand running through his hair.

"But, you just said—"

"Ignore what I said!" he insisted.

"Al," I said warningly, "No one can know."

"I know that, Marian! You've told me enough times!" He snapped and I flinched. "I'll get the money. Don't worry. When is this thing scheduled?"

"That's…another favor I need to ask you." He gave me a look and I could tell that I was trying his patience. "I can't just disappear. People will notice."

"I think you're thinking far too highly of yourself." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not willing to take a chance."

"Does it really matter that much, Marian, if someone finds out?" He asked genuinely.

"Yes. This…this is personal. This information belongs to me and me only. I get to decide who else knows. And I refuse to have something like…this…this private, personal, sad, and special thing get gossiped about in the girl's bathroom as another way for Eve Spencer to make me look like an awful person."

"Okay then. We'll do this your way." I blinked forcefully from the shock of it. Al, who had fought me every step of the way here, was going to do what I wanted.

"Really?" He nodded.

"It's not me who people would say things about, after all. You're right. This isn't anyone else's business. So we'll do whatever we have to, to make sure that no one else finds out." I hugged him then, impulsively. I wrapped my arms around his middle and held tight. The angle was awkward, as I was sitting next to him, but a moment later, one of his arms reached around me and gave me a small squeeze. I released him, straightened, and cleared my throat.

"I'm going to try to arrange it for Hogsmeade weekend. The second weekend in December. No one will notice if I'm missing while in the village. In fact, they'll probably just think that I'm off snogging someone behind the Shrieking Shack."

"Okay, so what exactly does this have to do with me?"

"Well, I need a date to Hogsmeade. So no one asks questions. You don't actually have to go to Hogsmeade with me. Or St. Mungo's. But I need you to lay low that day, disappear a bit if you can, so that no one questions it. And if anyone asks, just say we went for a walk around the outside of the village. That's all. I know, it's a lot to ask and everything, but—"

"Could I come with you to St. Mungo's? If I wanted to, I mean."

"Um…yeah." I hadn't really thought about it to be honest. "I mean, I don't know why you would, you don't even like me anymore, but you could come if you want."

"I think I'd like that," he whispered.

"Okay. Then I'll let Madame Sullivan know." I offered him a small smile and he returned it.

Things were still rocky. We were by no means friends. But at the very least, Al Potter and I had come to an understanding.

And that was all I could ask for, really.

* * *

><p>Scorpius was staring at me. And not his normal 'desperately trying to learn how to make a proper potion' staring, either. He wasn't even paying attention to how I was skinning the Shrivelfigs for our Elixir to Induce Euphoria. No, he was just sitting there, staring at me, with a sneaky smirk that I just wanted to smack off.<p>

"So once you skin them, you squeeze their juice out into the potion. This should make the potion turn yellow." Scorpius didn't reply. "Oi! Malfoy! Did you get that or am I going to have to explain this to you again in Potions Club?"

"Al told me." I froze.

"What?"

"Al told me." Oh I was going to bloody kill that boy. I didn't respond, but mechanically went back to skinning Shrivelfigs.

"Here, you give one a try."

"Oh stop trying to ignore it, Campbell."

"Ignore what, Malfoy?" I shoved a Shrivelfig at him. "Start skinning. I'm not making this potion entirely by myself." Stay calm, Marian. Just stay calm.

"You and I both know that I shouldn't be handling sharp objects when it comes to Potions. Now, are you gonna 'fess up or not?"

"Confess to what, exactly?" He rolled his eyes at me.

"You asked Al to Hogsmeade." Oh. Relief flooded through my posture.

"Oh is that all?" There was a dangerous flash in Scorpius' eyes and I knew that I had made a mistake.

"Is that all? What else would I be referring to?" I shrugged, trying to downplay my wording.

"People say a lot of things. I was worried there was something else that people were saying about me." I squeezed in some Shrivelfig juice into the potion. "For all I know, you were going to quiz me about the secret love potion making cult I have in the dungeon." Scorpius chuckled at this.

"And who would you be giving love potions to?"

"Oh, only the most handsome boys in the school." I gave him a wink. "I guess that you won't have to worry about finding your drink spiked with one, then."

"I'll have you know that plenty of people think I'm handsome, Campbell."

"Your mother doesn't count, Malfoy. Now, skin the Shrivelfig. It's the last one we need for the potion." He picked up the Shrivelfig and his Silver Knife and carefully skinned it. "Right, now just squeeze it into the potion, like squeezing a lemon. Good." I commented as he followed my instructions. "Now stir it four times, counterclockwise."

"Look, Marian, I appreciate all the help you've given me in Potions," he said to me, watching the yellow concoction closely.

"No problem, Scorpius." I smiled at him, but he didn't notice.

"But that doesn't mean you get to screw with my best friend."

"I'm not screwing with Al."

"He may not see it, because he's too over the moon about finally getting a shot with you," Over the moon? I doubt it. "but I have to question your motives. Why him? Why now? Because girls like you, Marian, don't change overnight. And I don't want to see my best friend hurt because you're leading him on, making him think that there's more to you than there really is." I suppose I should have been shocked at how vicious Scorpius was being, but I really wasn't. Slytherins protected their own. But if he was looking out for Al, well, I couldn't help but think that he was just a little too late. Part of me even wanted to blame Scorpius for this whole mess. After all, hadn't he said that he had told Al to take me upstairs as a way to get us together?

Well, look at the fruits of your labor, Scorpius. I'm pregnant and Al can't stand the sight of me.

"Scorpius, it's just a date. It's not a lifetime commitment. You know it, I know it, and Al knows it. Give your friend a little credit. He's more than capable of taking care of himself."

We didn't say anything more on the subject. But for the rest of the lesson, Scorpius' eyes never strayed from me.

* * *

><p>Ah the dulcet tones of four Hufflepuff girls gossiping.<p>

Normally this was a sound that excited me. I enjoyed sitting around and talking with my girlfriends. But today was just not one of those days. Being pregnant and hiding it from everyone while still trying to prepare for my N.E.W.T.s was _exhausting_. I was hoping that they would have already headed down to dinner in the Great Hall, so that I could have some alone time. Mostly because I just didn't have it in me to put on a smile and play nice with Eve Spencer.

You see, Eve and I used to be friends, but we had a falling out back at the end of fifth year. The rest of our friends refused to pick sides, so Eve and I were forced to tolerate each other. That still didn't stop her spreading every rumor she could think of about me around the school. And in return, I chose to antagonize her. But only on occasion.

Okay maybe more than on occasion. But I couldn't help it. She was just…so easy to piss off. Besides, her hatred of me was stupid and over the top. I had apologized to her at least a dozen times, argued with her about the issue more than twice that, but her opinion never changed. At this point, I've realized that I can't change her mind. So I've stopped trying.

When I walked into the room, the conversation immediately stalled as the girls turned and looked at me. Eve immediately sneered at me before turning her back to me and focusing on the other girls in the room. Charlotte and Winnie gave me a smile in greeting, while Irene didn't look up from the book she was reading, but waved anyways. I walked over to my bed and placed my bag down on it, while the conversation picked back up again.

"And would you believe that when the prefect found them snogging, Weasley actually had the gall to take points from her! Talk about abuse of power." I rolled my eyes and scoffed at this. If anyone was stupid enough to believe that Rose Weasley would be caught snogging Scorpius in the Astronomy Tower and then take points away from the prefect, they didn't deserve to be corrected. Rose was Head Girl and if you had spent any amount of time with her, then you knew for a fact that something like this report would never happen. Besides, the Astronomy Tower is so cliché. I doubted that Rose, who burst in on couples making out up there all the time, would find it romantic. "Have something to add, _Campbell_?" Eve spat my name like she was describing something disgusting, but considering this is how she normally addressed me, I wasn't exactly affected by her attempts to belittle me.

"Other than the fact that you're an idiot to spread around a rumor as unbelievable as that? Nope, nothing at all."

"Well, fine, Campbell, how about we talk about some gossip I've heard about you."

"Eve," Charlotte warned but Eve ignored her.

"I've heard that you asked Al Potter to go with you to Hogsmeade."

"Well, then, you've heard correctly," I confirmed cautiously, eyeing her carefully, looking for the insult.

"Well, I think it's such a pity that you've had to resort to begging boys to take you to the village."

"He said yes, Eve, so while you may think it positively _barbaric_ that I asked a boy to accompany me to the village, I would like to point out that it's gotten me farther with Al Potter than all your simpering has done for you for the past three years." I swear I almost expected to see steam come out her ears.

"He only said yes because you're easy," She spat.

"It doesn't matter why he said yes, it only matters that he did. I'm sure we're going to have a great time, walking around the village hand in hand, feeding each other chocolates from Honeydukes, sharing some butterbeers in The Three Broomsticks. We might even go out to the Shrieking Shack for some time…alone." Oh it was just too easy. Her face turned red and her lips pressed into a thin line. I could almost see the thoughts flickering behind her eyes, as she searched for a comeback, something to throw at me and wound me.

"Merlin, you're such a _bitch_," she all but screeched before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her. Marian 1, Eve 0. I smiled at the sight of the closed door, taking a bit of twisted pleasure in managing to piss Eve off once more. Winnie shook her head in disapproval. I shot her an sheepish look, which she waved away.

"No, no. She brought that on herself." She got up and sat next to Irene. "I just wish she would drop the antagonism. It's our last year. You would think she'd grow up a bit and let bygones be bygones. It's clear to all of us that you'll never be friends again, but she shouldn't go out of her way to try and insult you."

"I'm not exactly innocent either." There seemed to be a collective sigh throughout the room, each of us remembering easier days. I sat down on my bed and laid down, while Irene and Winnie talked about the book she was reading—some awful romance novel series that they both read—and Charlotte began to work on some homework. I watched them all, detached, choosing not to engage with them.

These were the girls I considered to be my best friends. For seven years, we had been all but inseparable. And I wanted to tell them, oh how I did. And there was a moment, when I opened my mouth to say something, but then I couldn't. It felt like something had grabbed hold of my vocal chords and twisted them, preventing me from spilling all my secrets to my friends.

"You wanna head down to dinner with us, Mare?" Charlotte asked me. I shook my head.

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Suit yourself." Charlotte and Winnie left, Irene following closely behind. Before she closed the door, Irene shot me a curious look, a look that said "I know something is going on but I hope you're okay. I pointedly ignored it. With the door shut a lot less violently than before, I was finally alone.

This was what I wanted.

So why, then, did I suddenly feel like a ghost had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart?

* * *

><p>AN: I just wanted to say that the response I've gotten for this fic is wonderful. Thanks for the reviews, the alerts, and the favorites!

So favorite parts? Least favorite parts? Thoughts on Marian, Al, and Scorpius? Eve and the HQBs? Tell me all about it in a review!

NaP


	4. December

Stay Young, Go Dancing

Chapter 4—December

_Thunder clouds forming, cream white moon, everything's gonna be okay soon. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the next day._—"Game Shows Touch Our Lives" by The Mountain Goats

The morning of the Hogsmeade visit, I woke up feeling like I was going to puke. But that was pretty much the norm for me considering I was, well, pregnant. And then it hit me that, tomorrow, this would all be over. I wouldn't be pregnant anymore. This thought bothered me more than I thought it would. Pregnant was a state of being that I sorely resented. I didn't _want_ it.

So why did the smallest little bit of sadness seep into me and settle, like a stone in my stomach, dragging me down?

I rose and tittered about with my friends, choosing an outfit for my "date", before we all headed down to breakfast in the Great Hall. I was going through the motions, acting like I thought they would expect me to act. I didn't want them suspecting anything, so with my behavior fairly normal, no one looked twice at me. Thankfully, Eve was nowhere to be found. According to Charlotte, she had gone down to breakfast early. She had a date with Aaron Moore, a sixth year Gryffindor. If I got through this day, I resolved to send that boy a thank you card, for taking Eve out of the picture. The last thing I needed today was Eve's poor attitude.

As we sat down at the Hufflepuff table, I caught Al's eye and immediately blushed. The girls, sadly, noticed and began to tease me, but I didn't pay much attention to them. I was far too focused on Albus, who after a quick nod to me, went back to conversing with Scorpius and Rose, who was also sitting at the Slytherin table. He seemed cool, collected, almost…unaffected by thoughts of what was going to happen today. I, however, was a mess. I was nervous and, now that the nausea had faded, thanks to one of Madame Sullivan's anti-nausea potions, I could finally realize that the queasiness I was feeling had to do with my worries and nerves, rather than pregnancy. I nibbled on my toast and waved off my friends when they insisted I eat something more.

Eventually, people started to exit the Great Hall and head down to the village.

"You girls go on ahead," I urged. "I'm going to wait for Al." I forced a smile and the three of them went off to the village without looking back at me.

I was nervous. So so nervous. There was so much that could go wrong today. Someone could find out. Our cover story wasn't exactly air tight. And what if something went wrong with the procedure? Is this really what I wanted? I could keep the baby, I really could. Al would be supportive…I think. I'm certain his family would be.

No. I shook my head, trying to physically remove the thoughts from my head. I didn't want it. This wasn't right. I was seventeen and there was no way I could raise a baby when I had a hard enough time taking care of myself and my dad on occasion. With a sigh, I told myself once more that this was the right decision. This was the right thing to do. It was okay for me to have some second thoughts, but in the end, I needed to summon what little courage I had and stick to the plan

I drank some pumpkin juice and looked around the Great Hall, which was starting to look more and more deserted. Finally, Rose and Scorpius rose from the Slytherin table and waved goodbye to Al. I took that as my cue. I nodded my head towards the exit, stood up, and left the Great Hall. I waited in the Entrance Hall for Al to meet up with me. There were still a couple people milling about, chatting, before heading down to the village, but they were so caught up with their own goings on that I wasn't too worried about them noticing me and Al. Al emerged and walked over to me.

"Hey," he said, offering me a small smile. He ran his hand through his hair, which calmed me more than you think. This was the first sign of nervousness that I had seen in him and knowing that I wasn't the only one feeling it went a long way.

"Hi." I didn't know what to say after this. Hesitantly, he took my hand. I felt a little shiver go through me at the contact, but chalked it up to the fact that it was drafty in the Entrance Hall.

"Shall we?" I nodded, not really trusting myself to speak. We walked together, hand in sweaty hand, down to the Hospital Wing. Madame Sullivan was waiting for us in her office when we arrived. I can't remember what she said, I was far too jittery, but Madame Sullivan's ramblings and instructions only made me more nervous. Instead, I focused on Albus' hand in mine, gripping me just a slight bit too hard. I didn't mind. For some reason, it made me feel safe. The next thing I knew, we were standing before the fireplace. Madame Sullivan was standing off to the side, her arms crossed, staring at us impatiently. Seeing that I wasn't about to do anything—hell, I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to be doing at that point—Al reached out for the floo powder and threw it in the fire. Pulling me into the now green flames, Al spoke clearly and loudly, "St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries" and we were whisked away.

* * *

><p>Gray was a sad color. It was the color of loneliness and isolation. The walls of the recovery room were painted gray. I suppose it was meant to be calming and subduing, but it was also sorrowful. It was a fitting color for the room. I hated gray. It made me think of the sky in the wintertime, just before it started to snow, like the day of my mother's funeral. Everything was deadened by the color gray. And while they tried to brighten the room up with a couple of framed pictures with brighter colors, the only way to describe the room was sad.<p>

I was crying and although the assistant healer assured me that it was a side effect of the sedation potion they gave me to calm my nerves during the procedure, I was pretty sure that I was also crying because I felt sad. And the sad color of the walls only made the feeling worse. At this point, I didn't even wipe away the tears. They were coming too quickly and I was still feeling lethargic. The door opened and Al walked in, taking a seat next to the cot that I was lying down in. I felt a bit bitter about his presence. There was an inappropriate intimacy to the fact that I was so completely vulnerable in this moment and he hadn't really earned the right to witness it. He shouldn't get to see me like this. Not when he disliked me so thoroughly.

"The healer said everything went really well. They just want to hold you for an hour to make sure there are no complications." I knew that. The assistant healer who brought me here had told me as much. Silence. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know. The potion is making me cry."

"So I can see." Delicately, he picked up a tissue from the box on the bedside table and wiped my face. I grabbed hold of his hand and stopped him, taking the tissue from him and slowly cleaning myself. He wasn't my boyfriend. He wasn't even my friend. It was just…too close.

"I'll be okay. Once I stop crying."

"Well, that's good." Silence once again. This time, tinged a bit with the awkwardness that Al seemed to carry around with him to use during moments like this with me. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Why not?" The words tumbled out of my mouth before I really thought about them. I probably should have said no. The potion was making me let my guard down, so I didn't think before I talked.

"Why did you sleep with me?" Oh hey there guilt and shame! It's been a while since I've seen you guys. I could feel the heat radiating from my cheeks from my blush.

"It's difficult to explain."

"You said it was a mistake down in the kitchens," he reminded me.

"_Mistake_ isn't the best word for it. I really don't know. It's just…well…I wanted to at the time. And then when it was done, I realized that I didn't. It was an impulse decision on my part. And only after the fact did I realize just how much damage I had done."

"So if you didn't want to have sex with me, why did you?"

"I told you, at the time I wanted to. But I was drunk and not in my right mind. I wish I could explain it, I really do, but I've yet to come up with a reason as to why I make most of the poor choices in my life."

"So you regret it?" He pressed.

"I regret…not thinking it completely through. It was stupid. I was toying with you for the hell of it, and I'm not proud of that fact. And then avoiding you, I guess. I regret that too. It wasn't the most mature way of going about things."

"If you regret it, and you think it was a mistake, then was it…bad?" I laughed lightly at this.

"Is that what you're worried about, Potter? Whether your bedroom prowess was up to standard?" It was his turn to flush. "Don't worry. From what I remember it was, well, good."

"Good?"

"Not mind blowing, or anything, but then again, I doubt two drunk teenagers are capable of that." He chuckled. "I think what I regret most is that I hurt you. I didn't mean to. And if I had for a moment just stopped to think, I would like to believe that I would have stopped it before it got too far. Because you're one of the good ones, Al. You really are. Far too good for a girl like me. And it tears me up inside to know that I made you even a little bit jaded, a little bit cynical, a little bit harsh. So I'm sorry." I closed my eyes then, not wanting to see his reaction, although I could feel his eyes on me, boring into me, observing me, dissecting me.

"You don't have that much of an effect on me, Campbell," he finally said, which made a fresh wave of guilt wash over me, because I knew it was a lie. I wondered if I should confess and tell him what I overheard, that I knew that he _liked_ me back in September, but I managed to hold my tongue. Al asked me no more questions. After a moment, Al grabbed my hand (I don't know why) and he didn't let go until it was time to leave. I let him. His grip was familiar and soothing, calming. A comfortable silence settled around us, something that was completely foreign to me. Perhaps it was the sedation potion, but those minutes while I was waiting in the recovery room with Al was the first time I had been at ease in the quiet for as long as I could remember.

* * *

><p>We returned, stumbling out of the fireplace, back at Hogwarts. Al was still holding my hand. Madame Sullivan wasn't in her office—I assumed she was in the wing, taking care of a patient.<p>

"Well…"Al started. Now that we were back at school, the awkwardness and unease between us had returned.

"Thanks for coming with me," I whispered and wiped furiously at my face. I was still a bit weepy, but the healer said that it would wear off soon enough.

"I wanted to go," Al said with a shrug. "We still have time to go down to Hogsmeade, if you want." I shook my head no.

"I just want to go lay down."

"Okay, let me walk you back." I was too drained from the day to put up a fuss. I didn't say much on our walk back to the Common Room. Usually it was me who was babbling, filling in the silence, but I was just too tired to bother. That meant that the duty fell to Al who, in his own quiet fashion, talked wildly about Quidditch. I patiently nodded along, although I wasn't really paying attention. When we arrived, I didn't immediately walk into the Hufflepuff Common Room.

"Thanks again. Really. I mean, this wasn't a fun place to be on Hogsmeade Saturday and, well, your presence made me feel better about everything." Impulse took hold of me and I gave him a kiss on the cheek. He blushed and internally I winced. It was an insignificant action, a gesture of thanks and nothing more, but in my complicated relationship with Al, everything held more meaning than it should have. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea—whatever that idea happened to be. When he didn't say anything in response, I ran inside the common room and up to the dorms to go lay down in bed.

Hours later, I was curled up in bed, still crying. I didn't know why I was still crying. The potion had surely worn off by that point. But I wasn't thinking about the why, just doing what I wanted. And I wanted to cry. Everyone else was down at dinner and I'm sure that my absence was noticed by my friends, but I couldn't handle them right now. I couldn't handle the useless talk, the pointless gossip, or the stupid questions. They didn't know and it was going to stay that way, but I couldn't just slap a smile on my face and playfully talk about my "date" with Al.

So I cried, quietly, in my room, by myself. But it wasn't long until I was disturbed. The door to our dorm opened and Irene quietly entered. She startled when she saw me but then grew very concerned. I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped she would leave me alone. Of course, she didn't. Irene was the quiet one of our group. But she was easily the most caring, kind person you'll meet. So when a friend of hers is crying quietly in bed, she most certainly notices and tries to help. She sat down next to me on my bed.

"Are you okay Marian?" Was I? I didn't know how to answer this question so I didn't. "Does this have to do with your date with Albus or the other thing?" I stiffened and my eyes flew open.

"What other thing?"

"The thing you've been hiding from us. It's okay. I don't think Winnie and Charlotte have noticed. And Eve's so caught up in her own life, she hasn't noticed either. So don't worry."

"I'm not hiding anything." Irene sighed.

"Like I said, it's okay. You clearly don't want to talk about it, but you've been acting strange since the end of September. But like I said, I'm the only one who's noticed." She paused for a moment, searching for the right phrasing to come next. "If you ever want to talk…well, I'm here. But if not, that's fine too. You can just tell me it's the other thing and I'll let the subject drop."

"Okay. Then it's the other thing. It's definitely the other thing." She didn't have to know that my "date" with Al was part of the other thing.

"Well, then, did your date go well?" I shrugged. How did I answer that? I knew I had built up a ton of responses to every question that would be asked about my "date" weeks ago, but in that moment, I couldn't remember a single one.

"It was fine." I settled for saying something vague, hoping that Irene would leave it alone and just chalk it up to me not being in a talkative mood.

"So not that good, then?" She asked me with a wry smile. I forced a smile and wiped some of my tears away. "What'd he do wrong? Did he make you pay? Did he pick his nose? Did he spill butterbeer on your favorite blouse?" I shook my head, my smile becoming more natural.

"Nothing. He was a fine date. A real gentleman."

"But…" She trailed off, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

"But nothing! It was just fine. I just don't think we…click." She took my hand and squeezed it.

"Well, that's certainly not reason to cry." I sniffled.

"No, it's really not."

"I'm sorry it didn't go better. I'm sorry that you two are not going to work out. I thought you'd make a cute couple."

"Well, that's just life, isn't it?" At this, Irene let go of my hand, stood up, and made her way over to her own bed. "Hey Irene?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." She smiled at me.

"Any time." Just then, Winnie and Charlotte burst in, all laughter and shouting and commotion.

"Marian! There you are! You haven't heard yet, I bet, but the Gryffindors are throwing a party the last day before term!" And life slipped back into normal. Whatever that meant.

* * *

><p>"Have a good holiday, yeah?" Winnie hugged me tight. I hugged her back just as tight.<p>

"You too." Charlotte threw her arms around the both of us, creating a group hug. Irene stood off to the side, throwing us a small wave before looking for her parents.

"I'm going to miss you guys," Charlotte spoke into my shoulder. Winnie laughed.

"It's just two weeks, Char. We'll see each other before we know it. If you get too lonely, we can always meet up in Diagon Alley after the New Year, yeah?"

"Definitely," I added. Anything to get me out of the house. While I was thankful for the break, going home wasn't something was I looking forward to. Sure, not having to deal with class and worrying about my N.E.W.T.s for two weeks would be welcome, but being home, all alone with my thoughts wasn't something I desired. Home was always so quiet. And I detested it. When we finally disentangled ourselves, Irene was gone and Charlotte's family had appeared. With Charlotte leaving, Winnie gave me one last squeeze.

"See you soon?" I nodded and Winnie headed off to see her parents. Once more, I was alone. I glanced around Platform 9 and ¾. A twinge of jealousy struck me, watching families reunite and students happily go off with their parents. I knew that my dad wouldn't be here because he found the magical world a little overwhelming, but even when we met up it wasn't going to be as emotionally charged as these reunions.

Pushing my trolley out of the Platform and back into Muggle King's Cross, I found a bench to sit down on and wait. My father actually worked at King's Cross, as a train conductor. I had no idea when his next train was coming in. After seven years, we really didn't need to coordinate my return. I knew that my dad couldn't afford to take time off, so, just like when I was eleven, I would sit on a bench near Platform 9 and 10 and wait for him to come collect me at the end of his shift.

I wasn't sitting there long when Albus and the Potter family emerged through the barrier, smiling and laughing. Al caught my eye and waved to me. I gave him a small wave back, but he didn't notice because he had turned towards his family and quickly motioned to me. The next thing I knew, Al was standing in front of me.

"Hey Marian." We hadn't seen each other since the day of the abortion. I hadn't wanted to see him. I was embarrassed by how much I had said while I was sedated, but I was also just too busy trying to appear normal and cheerful with my friends (even though I was anything but) to even think about that. Now that I had the source of my embarrassment staring me in my face, I flushed.

"Hey Al."

"Are you, uh…waiting for your parents?" I nodded.

"My dad should be here soon."

"Good, good." He shuffled awkwardly in front of me, in only a way that awkward Al Potter could. It was endearing.

"Al, I'll be fine."

"So you're, um, feeling better then?" I shrugged but didn't answer his question.

"You shouldn't keep your family waiting." The Potters were still standing where Al had left them, conversing quietly amongst themselves.

"It's fine. You shouldn't be out here alone." I snorted.

"What's going to happen to me at King's Cross? Go on, I'll be fine."

"Well, then," he said, searching for something else to say to keep conversing with me. I didn't understand why. We were done, the two of us. There was nothing between us now, nothing holding us together. We could go our separate ways. "I just wanted to say…"

"Marian," A hand rested on my shoulder and I looked up. My dad was standing beside me, dressed in his uniform, his hair sprinkled with more gray hair than I remembered him having when I left. He looked curiously at Al, "is this boy bothering you?"

"No, Dad. He's not." Al's eyes' widened.

"This is your dad?"

"Yes, I'm Marian's father," my dad confirmed, shooting me a pointed look that said 'Where are your manners?'

"Fine, fine. Introductions. Al, this is my dad, Robert Campbell. And Dad, this is Al, my…well…this is Al." What was Al to me at this point? I don't think there was a word to describe our odd relationship. My father shook hands with Al.

"It's good to meet you. I'm afraid I haven't met any of Marian's friends. I was beginning to wonder if she had any at that strange school you go to." Al looked puzzled by this.

"Marian's actually fairly well liked. She's got lots of friends."

"AL!" The Potter's were calling and I sighed with relief. He would have to go now. Al ran a hand through his hair.

"I guess I need to go."

"Yeah, you should go."

"Um…what I was saying before…"

"Yes?" He sighed, looking back and forth between my dad and me, before shaking his head.

"Nevermind. It's not important. Have a great holiday." I frowned, curious, but didn't press Al to confess. His family was waiting and whatever it was, he probably didn't want to say it in front of my dad, who was staring him down with the protectiveness of a bear.

"You too." He ran back to his family and when he did, he threw his arm around his sister's shoulders and messed up her hair. She gave a little shriek and pushed him away, laughing. Mrs. Potter shot her children a warning look over her should as they walked away, out of the station. My father and I watched them go, identical looks of longing on our faces. When the Potters were finally out of sight, I stood up and embraced my dad. He returned my hug and kissed me on the top of my head.

"C'mon now, love. Let's head on home."

* * *

><p>Christmas passed uneventfully. As we always did, my dad and I ordered Chinese, so that I didn't have to cook. My dad was hopeless in the kitchen, so I had been cooking meals for us ever since my mom got sick when I was nine. And when I say hopeless, I mean <em>hopeless<em>. The first time my dad and I were left to our own devices to cook, he burned the chicken he was making so bad that the fire department actually showed up. From then on, cooking was left to me. I took to it quite easily, putting all the determination a nine year old could into learning how to cook. After seven years of it, as you'd expect, I was quite good. I _enjoyed _cooking. I had a feeling this was why I was so good at Potions. Following a potion recipe really wasn't all that different from one for a meal. When I was gone at school, I'm pretty sure my dad subsisted on take away and whatever casserole old Mrs. Jones down the hall made him when she was feeling sorry for him. He looked thinner and thinner every time I came home and it always made me feel guilty. I felt like it was my fault he was wasting away, because I had chosen the magical world over him. I had chosen to leave him. He was stuck here, day after day, living in the past and I was so far away, moving towards the future.

As far as gifts went, I had gone out a couple days before and bought my father a new bathrobe to replace the one he had been wearing ever since I was born. It was navy and soft and I paid a bit extra to have it monogrammed in gold thread. My dad gave me a pair of pearl earrings. He said that they belonged to my mother.

And that was it. The girls and I didn't bother with gifts.

I passed the days by myself, watching telly in the flat, listening to the radio, working on some N.E.W.T.s prep work for Charms. Whatever I did, however, I did with making as much noise as possible. Silence was always ever present at home and had been so since my mom passed. I remember when I was younger, our flat had been filled with commotion. My mother always had the radio on and would sing along as she did housework. She was always laughing, always smiling, always radiating a joy that permeated the entire apartment.

Now the flat was silent. Oppressively silent. My mother's absence was always so…present in everything. I couldn't escape it. So when I couldn't take it anymore, I would leave, go out into London and wander for hours, before coming home in time to make dinner. The silence was especially noticeable this time of year. My mother passed away on the 29th, just after Christmas when I was ten. So while my father, on the best of days, wasn't the most talkative person, this time of year, he could barely bring himself to converse with me when I asked him how his day was.

Sometimes, my dad managed to take off on the 29th, but it was the holidays and the train station was busy, so this year wasn't one of them. He could only got off Christmas and New Year's Eve. So that meant that it was my responsibility to go down to the cemetery and leave her some flowers. I bought daisies at a flower shop near my house before I headed out, bundled in my coat and hat and gloves to where my mom was buried. Daisies were her favorite. I thought it perfectly indicative of how simple a woman my mother was. She needed love, family, and the occasional bouquet of daisies to keep her going.

It had been a few years since I had visited my mother's grave. It depressed me to see how worn down in looked. I know that my dad didn't visit often—couldn't visit often. Gently, I pushed some snow off the top (it was December after all) and let my hand linger on the gray stone.

_Julia Marie Campbell  
>Loving Wife and Mother<br>September 19, 1978—December 29, 2016_

I traced the letters and numbers of the inscription slowly, analyzing each letter, the way it curved and flowed into the next. When I finished with the six, my hand fell limply to my side.

"Hey Mom." I slowly sat down in front of her grave, ignoring the snow on the ground and the way the cold wetness seeped into my jeans. I leaned the flowers up against the gravestone. "It's been a while. I'm sorry, I guess. I should have stopped by over the summer, but I was so caught up in my own life that I didn't have a spare thought for you. That makes me sound incredibly selfish. But it's true. So I guess I'm selfish. I've come to realize over the past few months that I'm not a good person. No, that's not right. I am a good person. But I'm a good person who does bad things sometimes. And I did something really bad. And I kind of hate myself for it.

"Oh Mom. Why did you have to go? It's not fair Mom. You left me. You left Dad. And I know you didn't want to, but it's just unfair. Because I could have really used my mom lately. I really could have used _a_ mom." I started to cry at this point. "I need a mom to tell me that I did the right thing, that I'm not a bad person, that things will be all right eventually." Hastily, I wiped my tears away, but I didn't stop crying.

"Because the thing is, Mom, I'm not so sure that they will be. I'm having a hard time dealing with life right now. I'm sad and upset all the time. I don't know who to reach out to. I've got friends, _good_ friends, but I can't tell them. I can't bring myself to tell them my secret. And I don't know why. I don't know why I'm so ashamed of it. I didn't do anything wrong. And I think that…I'm not ashamed of my abortion. I'm ashamed of my behavior. Not in general, but just in this case. But I think what I'm trying to say Mom is that I've done the best I can in life without you, because I know that you're gone and there's nothing you can really do for me now. But I really really want my mom right now." The longer I cried, the harder it was to speak. My voice sounded strangled. "And it really hurts that you're not here."

I sat there a while longer, until I calmed down a bit. Then I leaned forward and kissed the headstone, stood up, and left the cemetery. It was getting late. My father would be home at five and I had to make dinner.

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, I'll admit, I'm still not completely satisfied with this chapter, but it'll do. I might go back later and edit it some, but the content won't change. Thanks to everyone for your reviews and alerts and favorites.

Review button is below, should you feel like telling me what you think about this chapter.

Until next time,

NaP


	5. January

Stay Young, Go Dancing

Chapter 5—January

_And it feels like it should today, falling back on a better place_—"Rain On" by Woods

_Dear Al_,

_If you have some free time, could we meet up and talk? I'm free this Thursday, if you are._

_Hope that you've been having a wonderful holiday so far._

_Marian_

I was starting to regret writing that missive. Like most of the things I did when it came to Al, it was an impulse decision. It was only after I sent the letter that I realized I had no idea what I wanted to say to him. Ever since I had visited my mother's grave, I had the burning desire to just…talk. And as I couldn't talk to my dad, or even the girls, about these things, I had no other choice but to see if Al would be willing to listen to me.

Because even if he was a Slytherin and even if he didn't like me very much anymore, he wasn't heartless or mean. No, those were two adjectives that, if the situation had been told to an outsider, would probably be hurled at me. He did respond. He said he'd meet me at two. And that meant, in my anxiousness, I had arrived at 1:30. I didn't want to be late. I felt like I was already at a disadvantage, I didn't need to give Al one more thing to throw at me.

I was sipping on a butterbeer when Al walked in. I watched as he unbuttoned his coat, but didn't take it off and then quickly scanned the room before landing on me. He immediately smiled upon recognition and walked over, taking a seat in the booth across from me. I was a little taken off guard by his warmth. I wasn't expecting hostility, exactly, but I never for a minute thought that Al might actually _want_ to see me.

"Started without me, I see."

"Er…yeah. I got here a bit early."

"It doesn't matter." He motioned to Hannah, who came right over with a butterbeer. She had an expression on her face I couldn't quite read, but it was definitely positive, judging by the smile on her lips. "I'm really glad you wrote, Marian. I was going to suggest, back at King's Cross, that we meet up during the holiday, talk some things out, but well…I didn't know if you'd want to." His hand ran through his hair. "So um…how have your holidays been?" I shrugged.

"They were fine. Quiet." He laughed.

"Mine were the exact opposite. I would have killed to have a quiet holiday at home, but we gathered at the Burrow like we always do. I don't think there's ever been a holiday more rambunctious for us."

"That sounds so lovely."

"Maybe if you're an outsider. When it's your family, well, then there's the teasing and the roughhousing and, Merlin, can my family be really annoying sometimes." I sipped my butterbeer as he began to describe the screaming match a very pregnant Victoire got into with her husband Teddy. And how James' new girlfriend had made a rather poor first impression on all of them because she tripped and sent a pie flying right into Mrs. Potter's face. And the drunk shenanigans of his older cousins as they came stumbling home from a pub three sheets to the wind on New Year's. To me it sounded wonderful—to be part of a family so large, that there was always something happening, always something to distract you. And even though Al was complaining about it, I could see that he loved it. "I've been talking far too much," Al finally remarked with a grimace. I shook my head.

"No, no, I really enjoyed listening. I'm only sorry that I don't have any tales of my own to regale you with."

"Well, surely you've got something."

"Nope, nothing. I told you, my holidays were quiet."

"Well, what did your family do for Christmas?"

"My dad and I ordered Chinese," I remarked with a shrug. "We made small talk. And then when we ran out of things to talk about, my dad turned on the telly. Trust me, I would much rather have had your holidays."

"So you're not close with your dad, then?"

"I mean…I don't love him any less, but…no. Not really."

"What about your mom?"

"She passed away when I was ten." Al looked shocked.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"How would you have known? I can't imagine why it would have come up in conversation between us before this. Besides, it happened a long time ago. It's fine. I'm over it." My mind immediately drifted to my breakdown a week ago. Perhaps I wasn't as over it as I thought I was.

"If you're sure…" I nodded. "So…um…is there a reason you owled me? Oh! And, I hope you don't mind me saying, but you might want to check up on your owl. He flew right into Lily's cereal." I laughed.

"It's not my owl. I don't own one."

"Why not?"

"I've never really needed one. It's an extra expense that I don't need. When I'm at school, my friends usually let me use their owls, or I'll use a school one. And I live close enough to Diagon Alley to use the post office here. Although, as I'm sure you've been able to tell, those owls are a bit dodgy sometimes. But to you other question, well, yes there was a reason."

"And that reason is?" Al asked, when I didn't immediately continue. Even after his prodding, I didn't answer right away. I was nervous—I couldn't believe that, after everything, I was going to ask this. But I needed to.

"Do you think we could be friends?"

"Friends?"

"Yeah, friends. I know, I know, you told me back in October that you didn't want to be friends with me. But well…I could really use a friend right now, and since you're the only one who knows why, I just thought that…." I trailed off, my finger drawing squiggles in the condensation on the table.

"Okay. Yeah. Yeah, we can be friends." I wasn't expecting him to say yes and he laughed at the shock that was written on my face.

"Really?"

"Yeah." I offered him a small smile and he offered me a big one back. He reached across the table and grabbed my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It was a small gesture, but it made my eyes fill with tears. "Hey now, why are you crying?" I wiped away the tears and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I had spent far too much time crying these days.

"Sorry. It's nothing. I'm just overly sensitive these days."

"Are you _okay_, Marian?"

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. And you didn't have me come all the way out to The Leaky Cauldron to just ask me if we could be friends. So what's up?"

"I'm just…sad. So sad. And I can't make it stop."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't."

"But I don't want to be sad anymore. I have no right to be sad! I didn't want the child. I mean, I'd be a terrible mother!"

"That doesn't mean you can't be sad about it."

"Yes, yes it does!"

"No Marian, it doesn't. It's an incredibly sad situation. You have every right to be upset." We sat for a while after that. During our entire exchange, Al hadn't stopped holding my hand. He was _still_ holding it. "Do you want to take a walk with me?"

I could think of nothing else I'd rather do. Al left some money on the table as I put on my gray pea-coat. He had never taken his coat off, so we left as soon as I got the last button fastened.

We walked along the streets of London; I poured my heart out to Al, telling him more about the sadness that I felt, but thought I didn't deserve to feel. He listened and didn't interrupt, just let me talk. When the January wind became a little too much to bear, he threw his arm around my waist, pulling me toward him, close enough to feel his body heat. And when I finally finished my tale of woe, he distracted me with childhood stories of him and his siblings and his cousins.

And when the sun was finally beginning to set, I bid Al farewell, hugging him tight. He hugged me back and said he'd see me soon; the Hogwarts Express was leaving on Sunday. And when he disapparated, leaving me there alone on the streets, I didn't feel abandoned or sad. I was content and able to walk the whole way home with a smile on my face, my heart considerably lighter.

* * *

><p>"So then I told Hayden that he was being a git and…" I'll be honest. I wasn't paying attention. I have no desire to hear about Eve's holidays. Even less to hear about her squabbles with her brother. So I was trying to focus on reading a book, but mostly just settled for watching the people pass by in the corridor. It gave me a lot of time to think. I wondered about my newfound friendship with Al. I know that I was the one to insist that we be friends, but that didn't mean that, in the context of Hogwarts, I knew how to act around him. On our own, in London, I was okay. I didn't mind the hand-holding, the arm around my waist, the hugs, and the playful shoves. But at Hogwarts, the physical side of our relationship would only add more fuel to the rumor mill.<p>

And then suddenly, it occurred to me: who cared what other people thought? I had never worried about what people would say about my friendships before. Hell, last year when I had made friends with Scorpius, people talked for weeks about me trying to steal Rose Weasley's boyfriend. I hadn't paid one bit of attention then and the talk died down eventually, especially because I was rumored to be getting it on with half the school and Rose and Scorpius were still going strong. The same thing would happen with Al. Why in this instance did it matter so much? People could speculate all they wanted.

"So how were your hols, Marian?" Winnie asked me. It was the sound of my name that brought me back.

"Hm?"

"Your holidays, Marian," Winnie prompted with a smile.

"Oh, they were fine."

"You didn't meet up with us over break," Charlotte stated with a curious look.

"I had other plans." The truth was I was so caught up in my misery that I didn't feel up to facing them. Especially since Eve was going to be with them. My feelings had since balanced out a bit. The door to our compartment suddenly opened and derailed our conversation. I was glad, until I realized who entered. Three guesses who. You'll only need one.

"Hey Marian." He greeted me with a grin. I flushed but smiled back. He had changed into his uniform, even though it was still early, but his hair was still as much a mess as ever. He looked good—better than I did, I'm sure. But seeing him did lift my spirits.

"Hey Al. How're you?"

"I'm good." He didn't stop smiling and I was a bit confused as to why this observation filled me with warmth. "And you?"

"I'm okay."

"That's good."

"Do you um…" I motioned to the free seat, "want to sit down a bit."

"Oh um, no thanks. Scorpius and Rose are waiting for me. I just wanted to say hi."

"Okay. I'll um, see you around then."

"Yeah." He took the step back out into the corridor. "See you!" The instant he was gone, all eyes were on me.

"I thought," Irene began the inquest, "that you said that your date with him was a bust."

"I never said that." Winnie snorted.

"You said it was _fine_. That's pretty much the same thing."

"You also said that you didn't click," Charlotte added. Eve, thankfully, didn't say anything. She just stewed in the corner, shooting me dirty looks. "So what happened to change that?"

"Nothing," I insisted. "We met up this past Thursday and talked a bit. We've agreed to be friends. There's nothing _romantic_ going on."

"Please, boys do _not_ stare at girls like he just stared at you when nothing romantic is going on." Winnie's comment only made me uncomfortable.

"He likes you," Irene added. Wrong tense, Irene. He _liked_ me. I certainly ruined any chance of any type of romantic relationship blossoming between us. Not that I was interested. Because I wasn't.

"No he doesn't."

"Girl, please!" Charlotte exclaimed. "He's practically in love with you." Then the chorus of 'Al loves Marian' and 'Marian and Al sitting in a tree' began. I never said my friends were mature. In the corner, Eve's glower intensified. I stood up.

"I'm going to go…find Dmitri or something," I muttered and fled, tripping over my own two feet as I practically leaped for the door. Thankfully, I caught myself and didn't tumble to the floor; falling down was the last thing I needed.

I know they meant well, but their teasing was too much. I could hear their chorus of laughter as I escaped. Now that I was out in the corridor, I sighed and figured I might as well say track down Dmitri. I hadn't seen much of him lately. I had been so caught up in my own drama that I never thought to check in with him. However, somehow I knew that my avoidance of Dmitri was more than simply forgetting to say hello. I could fool my friends. I did a very good job at it—no one suspected the truth. But I knew I could never hide it from Dmitri. He would know. But now, I was no longer pregnant. I had nothing to worry about.

At least, that's what I had to keep telling myself.

I located Dmitri rather quickly. He was sitting by himself in a compartment and reading a book about wandlore. He didn't stop reading when I came in and sat across from him.

"It's been a while."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Marian."

"I shouldn't have ignored you, even if I wasn't doing it intentionally."

"But that's just how you are, Marian. You get caught up in your own head and you tend to forget about things like your friends. This isn't the first time and it won't be the last." I winced.

"You make me sound like a horrible friend."

"You're not horrible; you're just human. You're not perfect. And I don't expect you to be." He sounded so calm, it unnerved me slightly.

"Why are you never angry at me?"

"Because it would be pointless to be angry at you. Being angry at you isn't going to make you change your behavior."

"I can change."

"Don't." His voice was final.

"Why not?"

"You've never insisted I change. I'm not going to insist that you change."

"You _should_ be angry," I claimed. "But I'm glad you're not." He didn't respond; he kept reading. "Dmitri?"

"_What_ Marian?" I was caught off guard at the edge in his voice. It wasn't his 'exasperated, why are you bothering me' voice either. There was something darker to it. I almost bit my tongue and left him alone, but I needed to finish what I started.

"That letter you got from your mother. Back in October. You said that you'd tell me what it said if I talked to Al."

"You're right. I did." When he didn't offer any more information, I knew I should have let the subject drop. Instead, I pressed on.

"Well I talked to Al, so..."

"So what?"

"What did it say?"

"I don't remember. It was months ago." Dmitri not remember something? Never, in the seven years I had known him had he ever forgotten anything. He had to be lying.

"You remember. You just don't want to tell me," I concluded in slight disbelief.

"I don't remember," He repeated.

"Why don't you want to tell me?" No response. "Oh my God, you _are_ angry at me."

"I'm not angry at you."

"You are!"

"No, I'm _not_. I don't want to be angry at you. Therefore, I am not angry at you," he snapped.

"You don't _want_ to be angry at me?" This concept confused me.

"Yes!"

"But you are angry at me."

"Yes!"

"Oh." A beat. "Why don't you want to be angry at me?"

"Because you're so…fragile!" He exclaimed, finally finding the right word. "If I'm angry at you, you'll fall apart!"

"You can be angry at me, Dmitri. I'm not made of glass," I tried to reassure him. I wasn't sure why I was advocating that he be angry at me. I suppose it's because anger is something I can deal with. If he's visibly angry, then I know that it will pass. I could make it up to him. But if he treats me with this cold, calm indifference, then I don't know what to do to make it stop.

"But you are! And I'm not going to be like you. I'm not going to be selfish and let myself be angry so that _I_ can feel better!" If he had slapped me in a face, it would have hurt less.

"You think I'm selfish." Well, so did I. I had admitted as much to my mother. But that didn't mean that when one of your best friends says it, it doesn't hurt.

"I didn't mean it like you think," he sighed. He turned his face away from me, towards the door. He was unwilling to look me in the eye. This wasn't a good sign. I knew that I had major groveling to do.

"But it's true. I'm sorry. I've been incredibly self-involved. I haven't concerned myself of the goings on of your life. I drop you when I can't be bothered and then I expect to find you right where I left you, expect us to pick up right where we left off. I'm not a good friend, Dmitri. I see that now." He wasn't paying attention to me. His eyes were glued to the door, glued to the goings on of the corridor.

Outside the compartment, Lucy Weasley was laughing with her friends. She caught Dmitri's eye and gave him a small wave before she and her friends moved on, presumably back to their own compartment.

In the end, it was Dmitri's expression that tipped me off. He wasn't just paying attention to Lucy and her friends. He was staring at her with a look of anguish and admiration. Excitement and anxiety. Longing and disappointment. He was conflicted; conflicted because he was so enamored with her, but knew that he would never actually make a move; never actually take a chance and see if she liked him back.

Dmitri was in love with Lucy Weasley.

And I may have been a sucky friend, but I knew exactly what I was going to do to make it up to him. I was going to get Dmitri and Lucy together.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, Dmitri and Lucy took a back seat the second I stepped foot back at Hogwarts. N.E.W.T.s were <em>only<em> five months away, after all. With the way the professors were acting, you'd think that we were all going to be tested tomorrow! I was swamped with work. Besides, I had no idea how to even approach the problem. I couldn't exactly ask the girls for help because of their distaste for Dmitri. And unfortunately, I wasn't close enough with any of Lucy's friends to get some information. Other than going up to Lucy and demanding that she go out with my friend, I was at a loss. I didn't know where to start. So I put off the problem and focused on Charms, determined that I'd figure it out later. Besides, Charms was a bit more pressing. The essay I turned in just before break got a Dreadful. I had barely gotten an A for my Charms O.W.L. and even then, I had to get special permission from Professor Cartwright last year to enter her N.E.W.T.s class. I wished like anything I could drop it.

Luckily for me, Al was great at Charms. Which is why he was down in the kitchens with me, helping me understand the Avis charm.

"But I don't understand what the point of this charm is! I mean, I'm never going to need to conjure up a flock of birds." Al sighed, clearly tired of my complaining.

"Why are you even taking Charms if you hate it so much?"

"It's required for the job I want."

"I thought you were going to do something with Potions."

"Professor Cooper put me in touch with a potioneer she knows. Master Tinley said that he'd take me on as an apprentice, providing I got N.E.W.T.s in Charms, Potions, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures. Apparently, when creating and testing potions, there are a lot of charms you put on the vials and cauldrons. I don't need to get an O in Charms; I just need to pass. But as I'm sure you can tell, I'll never need to conjure birds in my line of work."

"You're going to be a potioneer? That's cool." I shrugged.

"I could hate it, but it's somewhere to start. What about you, what are your plans after graduation?"

"I'm waiting to hear back from Gringotts about a place in their curse-breakers training program."

"A curse-breaker? Really?"

"Yeah."

"I just…can't picture you as one." He laughed.

"My cousins say the same thing." He went back to his Charms notes, but I didn't want to let the subject drop.

"So why a curse-breaker then? You just seem too…quiet to be one. I mean, not that quiet's a bad thing. It's just…you've never sought out attention before. I mean, you don't go out, looking for trouble or anything."

"I think that…it's time for my own adventure. I love my family, but there are so many of them. And my dad's Harry Potter. I hate all the attention I get because of who I'm related to. I hate the expectations that they have of me. I suppose that's why I'm in Slytherin. There's part of me that just wants to break free from them all. So I want to go off, be a curse-breaker, have my own adventures, and make a name for myself on my own merits."

"I admire that." He flushed at my compliment.

"I've never really told anyone that before." My brow furrowed.

"Well, why not? I mean, I'm sure if you said that, you'd have all the girls knocking down your door. Trust me; we girls eat that stuff up." I said it playfully, but he took it seriously.

"I don't want a million girls crushing on me. I mean, I've only had one girlfriend."

"I know," I said without thinking. Al's eyes widened measurably and I realized my mistake.

"You know?" Oh this was awkward.

"Um yeah. Back at the beginning of fifth year. You asked out Gwen Harding. It was a big to do in Hufflepuff. Eve threw a gasket. I remember comforting her as she cried in the dormitory, thinking the whole situation was ridiculous." Al deflated slightly and grimaced when I mentioned Eve.

"That girl scares me." I laughed.

"You and me both, my friend."

"But don't you and Spencer hate each other? Why would you be comforting her?"

"Oh we do. It just wasn't always this way."

"Why?"

"_That_ is a long story."

"Well, we've got time."

"Al…" I warned.

"Either you tell me this story, or it's back to Charms." I groaned.

"Fine, fine! I'll tell you!" I sighed. "Well, Eve and I were friends. Us Hufflepuffs, we were all really close. Things went wrong between me and Eve at the end of fifth year. You see, at the beginning of the year, her brother, Hayden, asked me to the first Hogsmeade trip. He's two years older than us, and he was a Ravenclaw, so you probably don't remember him."

"No, no. I vaguely recall him. The keeper on their quidditch team, right?"

"Yeah, that was Hayden. Anyways, we developed a…well…thing."

"A thing?"

"Well, I have a hard time putting a label on it, because I thought it was casual and just a bit of fun and he, as I found out later, didn't. Eve warned me after I accepted that first date. She said to me 'Marian, if you mess with my brother's heart, I will end you.' I laughed it off at the time. So Hayden and I went to Hogsmeade together, and we wound up casually dating. I mean, I never described him as my boyfriend and he never asked me to be his girlfriend."

"So, what changed?"

"Well, things continued on for most of the year. Eve wasn't happy that I was seeing her brother, but she kept her mouth shut about it for the most part and I learned not to talk about my adventures with Hayden when she was around. So May came around and everything kind of blew up in my face. This casual dating, just for fun fling I was having with Hayden suddenly turned serious.

"He told me that he loved me. That he wanted me to wait for him. In two years, once I had graduated, and he had managed to complete training and get a job with the MLEs and saved up some money, I would move in with him. He planned that we would be engaged, if not married, soon afterwards. I'm sure you can imagine how well I took all of this." Al exhaled with a small whistle.

"Damn."

"I know. Eve was furious. She claimed that I broke her brother's heart, that I led him on, that I enjoyed toying with him just for the hell of it. Now, I'm not perfect, but I certainly didn't do that to Hayden. We had never discussed our relationship, had never defined it. I thought that, because of our lack of communication over the issue, we silently agreed that it wasn't anything serious. I mean, I was fifteen for most of our relationship! I wasn't looking for a marriage proposal. So when Hayden told me he loved me, I had to tell him that I didn't love him back and that, perhaps it was best that he was graduating in a month and we wouldn't see each other again. It would have been cruel for me to say otherwise. I saw him this past summer, in Diagon Alley. He was fine and was dating a colleague and was extremely happy. He even went so far to say that he was _glad_ I didn't love him back, because it was clear to him now that our relationship would never have worked. So he may have gotten over it, but Eve never has. I spent the first half of sixth year trying to apologize and make it up to her, but she didn't want to listen."

"And your other friends?"

"They've gotten used to spending time with each of us separately, for the most part. I mean, there are times when we still do things as a group, but Eve and I try to ignore each other then."

"That's…some story."

"It's why I'm very clear about my no-strings policy with boys. Hayden was the closest thing I've ever had to a relationship and it turned out to be a disaster. I have no desire to repeat the experience—once bitten, twice shy, I guess. I can't believe you didn't know most of the details already. Most of the school does."

"I guess I've never paid much attention to what people are gossiping about. Most of the time, it has something to do with my family. It's all untrue, so it's easier to ignore it than get upset about it. Anyways, we should get back to this charm."

I hemmed and hawed, but by the end of the afternoon, I had finally produced a couple of birds with the charm. We celebrated with some chocolate cake, courtesy of the house elves. And while we were shoving cake in our faces, not caring that either of us had chocolate frosting on our faces, it hit me.

"Oh my Merlin. Lucy Weasley is your cousin!"

"What about Lucy?" He gave me the most adorably confused look I had ever seen. An idea began to form in my mind and I smiled a smile that I hadn't had on my face since that night in Al's dormitory, way back in September. I was already beginning to plot.

"Listen…" And then I spilled the entire story to him. And by the time I finished, I saw the same smile on Al's face.

We had a mission: we were going to get Dmitri and Lucy to go to Hogsmeade together or we were going to die trying.

Okay. Maybe not die. That's a little over dramatic. But you get the idea.

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry this was a bit late folks. Life got in the way. And this chapter wasn't cooperating. You don't want to know how many times I had to rewrite certain sections! But, now we're heading into the second half of the story. So I hope that you enjoy it, as the rest of the plot begins to unfold.

Leave me a review and tell me what you think.

Until next time,

NaP


	6. February

Stay Young, Go Dancing

Chapter 6-February

_Sometimes I think this cycle never ends, we slide from top to bottom and we turn and climb again- _"Expo '86" by Death Cab For Cutie

The plan was pretty simple. We hoped that, when forced into proximity with each other, Dmitri and Lucy would hit it off. Considering that Lucy had waved to Dmitri on the train, I was fairly certain that she at least knew who he was, but how much one knew about the other, I didn't know. It was my job to talk Dmitri into a meeting. Al was handling Lucy.

However, convincing Dmitri to meet me in the library was more difficult that I thought.

"But you never do work in the library." He shot me a suspicious look over the top of his book. I'm lucky that I can keep my head under pressure, or else the jig might have been up and all of mine and Al's planning would have gone down the drain.

"Al likes to study there more than the kitchens. He helps me with Charms." Dmitri snorted at this, but returned to his book.

"Is that what you're calling it these days? I never knew you were one to be so discreet about your conquests, Marian." I flushed at what he was implying.

"No really, he helps me in the library, Dmitri." He smirked and I swear my hand twitched, ready to reach up and smack it off his face.

"Out in public? My, you are bold. I can only imagine how many first years your library adventures have scarred." I rolled my eyes.

"Look, there's nothing going on. Al and I are friends. And I thought it might be nice if my friends got to know him. Especially because we haven't spent a lot of time together lately. I'm _trying_, Dmitri. But you don't have to come; in fact, I'm starting to think this is the worst idea I've ever had."

"Oh hardly. You and I both know that this decision doesn't even rank on the top ten list."

"Whatever, Dmitri." I huffed and made to leave, when he sighed. With my back to him, knowing he couldn't see my face, I fully indulged in a wicked smirk of my own before schooling my features and turning to give him a look.

"Fine, fine, I'll show up and we'll have a _study date_ or something."

"And you promise to behave?" I prompted.

"Yes, yes of course. I'll be on my best behavior."

"You better be," I warned darkly, although I knew that Dmitri wouldn't take me seriously. He waved me off and I let him be, leaving him to his book. I went in search of Al, to see how his mission went.

Really, I have to say, I quite enjoyed this secretive plotting nonsense. There was a sense of adventure and excitement to it. It made my heart race slightly, and I felt like running down the halls to burn off some stored up energy. I hoped that, when Dmitri and Lucy finally got together, I could find something similar to do that would make me feel the same way.

Perhaps I could go about finding a boyfriend for quiet Irene.

* * *

><p>Al and I were sitting across from each other in the library, waiting impatiently for Lucy to show up. Although Al seemed to be unfazed by her lateness, I was getting a little anxious. I had my Charms book open in front of me, but I wasn't actually reading it. Occasionally, I'd turn the page; I had to keep up appearances after all. Dmitri was bound to notice if I just sat there, staring at the same page for over an hour. He was already skeptical about "studying" with us. I didn't need him to get frustrated with me and leave before Lucy arrived. As I fidgeted, I could feel both males' gazes on me, although Dmitri's was harsher, trying to sparse out the reasons for my behavior. Al seemed to already know why. He nudged me under the table with his foot. I nudged him back, not looking up from my book, but smiling softly. Dmitri rolled his eyes.<p>

"If you two are going to play footsie, I'm out of here." He would notice, of course. I flushed, but Al just chuckled.

"You're just jealous because you're not getting any, Morozov." He winked at me and my flush deepened.

"_Not helping_," I bit out.

"If you keep denying our love, Marian, I'm going to start thinking you're ashamed of me." This time I kicked him for real under the table. "Ow! What was that for?"

"You know why."

"Merlin, it was just a joke."

"Yeah, well, half the castle already thinks we're dating—" Dmitri snorted.

"Well, that's _one_ word for it." I shot him a look.

"There's no reason to add fuel to the fire."

"Seriously though, if you two are going to do nothing but flirt, then I'm going to have to leave. I actually have to get work done. Not all of us have the luxury of not reading their charms textbooks, Marian." Dmitri had but a moment to savor my sheepish face of surprise.

"Sorry I'm late." Lucy plopped down into the open chair next to Al, out of breath, her hair windblown. "Quidditch practice went a bit late." She rummaged through her bag, taking out her books, some parchment, ink, and a quill. The blood drained from Dmitri's face the moment she sat down and he gaped at her. I nudged him with my elbow and immediately his expression changed to indifference.

"It's fine," Al filled in while I was telepathically urging Dmitri not to be an idiot and stick his foot in his mouth. Lucy smiled at me.

"You must be Marian. I've heard a ton about you. And of course, I already know Dmitri." Dmitri blushed—but only slightly. It was barely perceptible. In fact, it just made him look like he had a healthy glow about him. Unfair, if you ask me. When I blush, I look like a tomato with a sunburn. But he ducked his head and mumbled a greeting, which ruined the entire picture. I rolled my eyes. Al's face contorted into something resembling amusement and sympathy. Lucy seemed to take Dmitri's less than stellar salutation in stride. The smile never left her face. She flicked her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and opened her textbook. "So you're working on Charms?" Al and I nodded. Dmitri didn't respond. "That's good. I've been struggling with the latest lesson. The wand movements are messing me up. They're so different from Transfiguration, right Dmitri?" He shrugged.

"I guess so."

"I mean, I've always been better at Transfiguration than Charms. The movements for Charms are so showy."

"I'm not coordinated enough with my wand for either subject," I interjected and Lucy laughed. I liked her.

"I remember, back in fifth year, instead of transfiguring the matchbox into a mouse, you just managed to set them all on fire."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure Professor Harte was relieved when I dropped his class."

"Well, class is certainly duller without you."

"Yeah, but Hogwarts is infinitely safer for it," I said with a giggle. "I mean, not even Dmitri here could help me. _Isn't that right_?"

"Marian, there isn't a person alive that could help you with Transfiguration. Frankly, I don't quite understand why Al bothers to try with Charms. You're hopeless at that too."

"Actually, she's gotten a lot better," Al remarked. Dmitri looked doubtful.

"I'll believe it when I see it." The librarian hushed us then; I suppose we had been getting a little loud. We settled in then, actually doing some studying. Intermittently, one of us would ask the others to help explain a concept that we didn't understand. It worked pretty well. Until Lucy asked for Dmitri's help with some wand movements.

"Like this?" She waved her wand and Dmitri shook his head.

"No no, less swish, more flick." Lucy sighed, running a frustrated hand through her hair.

"Show me," she demanded. She stood up and walked to the other side of the table. She grabbed Dmitri's hand and placed it over her wrist. Dmitri froze as she did this, his eyes wide as saucers. He jerked his hand away from hers and stood up.

"I need to go," he blurted out. He quickly started to gather up his things. I placed a placating hand on his arm.

"Dmitri." I was concerned. He shrugged off my hand angrily.

"Not now, Marian." He left the library without another word. My mouth quirked into a frown. Up until that moment, I had thought that Dmitri was enjoying himself. I had thought that the plan was going to be a success. And I know that normally, Dmitri wasn't one for people touching him, but he had never reacted like that before. Perhaps we had pushed it too far. I mean, as far as I knew, this was his first time interacting with Lucy outside of class. Maybe we could do it again sometime and he wouldn't run off like the hounds of hell were chasing him because a girl touched his wrist.

I was trying to be understanding, I really was, but I was too baffled by his behavior to dole out any of the sympathy I knew that Dmitri wouldn't actually want.

Still standing next to me, Lucy huffed exasperatedly.

"Merlin, is that boy _ever_ going to ask me out?" Both Al and I rounded on her, shocked. She shrugged. "What? It's so painfully obvious he likes me."

"And you like him too?" I asked after a moment's hesitation. She considered this for a second.

"I think I could. I mean, I _want_ him to ask me out. I don't know him that well. But he's cute and intelligent and scathingly witty at times, and I just…I think we'd have some fun. At the very least, if it didn't work out romantically, we could be good friends. But I'll never know if he doesn't get some courage and ask me to go to Hogsmeade already! I've dropped tons of hints too. I say hi to him every time I see him and ask after him. I ask him for help, even when I know exactly what I'm doing. I've even tried twirling my hair for God's sake!"

"He's a bit thick when it comes to interpersonal actions. He was probably too caught up in the fact that you were actually paying attention to him to read anything into it. He has horrible self esteem sometimes, that one.

"And, well, he is a Ravenclaw," Al supplied. "Not exactly known for their courage. Besides, rejection is well…scary. And it hurts. So I get why he's reluctant to make any big steps."

"I suppose," Lucy concede and lowered herself into Dmitri's now unoccupied seat. She reached across the tabled and dragged her book toward her with a grimace and the three of us settled into uneasy silence as we finished our homework.

* * *

><p>I found Dmitri in the Astronomy Tower, smoking a cigarette that evening. I went looking for him after dinner; he hadn't been in the Great Hall and I had been slightly worried. I knew enough to give him some space, but the incident with Lucy was hours before. And he wasn't one to miss a meal. "I thought you quit," I said in lieu of a greeting. Dmitri shrugged.<p>

"I picked them back up over the holidays." I scrutinized his appearance. His hair was disheveled from the wind, there were dark bags under his eyes, and his normally pressed uniform was wrinkled. He was obviously distressed, and I had a hunch that it wasn't just about Lucy. But whatever it was, this afternoon certainly hadn't helped relieve him of his problems. I didn't press him for details though; I crossed the room to stand next to him at the window sill, looking out over the grounds of Hogwarts. He would tell me if he wanted to.

"She likes you, you know."

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb. I heard it from her mouth myself. She's quite frustrated you can't get the guts up to ask her out."

"Well, she could have done something to let me know." I scoffed.

"I think she has. Why else would she make a point to talk to you? You're not exactly the wittiest conversationalist when it comes to her, in case you haven't noticed." He laughed softly.

"I thought she was just being nice."

"Well she was. But she's not nice to everyone. So you should ask her to Hogsmeade tomorrow or I'll make sure you never get a chance with her." He shoved me playfully with his hips and pushed him right back, a smirk on my lips. He knew I'd never do something like that.

"We'll see." I leaned my head on his shoulder and shivered slightly at the cold. It was February after all, and the Astronomy Tower wasn't the most insulated of places in the castle. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. He smelled like cigarette smoke, old books, and rainy Sundays. "I have an older sister." He said it so casually that I thought for sure that I had misheard. I bit the disbelieving 'what?' back, forcing myself to be quiet. If Dmitri was going to talk about this, he was only going to do so if I shut my mouth and let him talk.

"That letter, back in October, you know? The one where you wanted to know what happened?" I nodded into his shoulder. "That's what my mother was writing me about." He rolled his eyes. "Of course she would do it through a letter. Instead of breaking the news in person to me. My father not only cheated on my mother, but he had a whole second family. They're muggles and they're French, did I tell you that? Margot is my sister's name. She's 18, so she's only a little older than me. And I really mean that. Her birthday is in July." Dmitri's was in September. "She wants to go to university in America. That's why she and her mom, Emmanuelle, are coming out of the woodwork now. But it's not like she wants half my inheritance. She'd be entitled to that, too, you know. But no, she just wants enough to cover school, if we'll give it to her. She's okay if we don't, she'll get loans and stuff. But she figured she might as well ask." He paused in his narrative to light another cigarette. He took a long drag of it and exhaled, then offered it to me. I took it and placed it to my mouth, inhaling then passed it back to him.

"I went to see her, before term started up again. I'm of age now, so I have full access to my inheritance. My mother has no control of it, never did, really. It's always been my money. And as money hungry as she is, she's always respected that. She'll get married and divorced as much as she wants, but she'll never touch the money my father made. So I thought about it and it just didn't seem fair to me that they weren't getting a piece. There's certainly enough money. I don't need all of it. Hell, I don't need an eighth of it. So I cut it in half, wrote out a check, and took a portkey to Paris.

"They welcomed me, although they were surprised to see me. They knew who I was, had a picture of me and my mom and my dad, I don't know why. And let me tell you, if I had any doubts about her parentage, all I needed to do was look at her. She's the spitting image of my father. Same eyes, same nose, same mouth. We had dinner and at the end of it, I presented her with the check. Told her it was rightfully hers. She smiled, ripped it up, and told me to send her a check for her tuition—just her tuition and nothing else. She didn't want the money, she didn't want me. She showed me to the door and told me it was nice to meet me, but that she didn't think either of us needed more contact. I could send the check in the mail to her and feel free to send her a message, to make sure it arrived (it's a sizeable amount of money for anyone else who isn't heir to a billionaire's fortune), but that after that, we didn't really ever need to see each other again. She said she's content with her life and she really sees no need in shaking things up by getting involved with me.

"So I have a sister, but she wants nothing to do with me." I wrapped my hands around his waist, hugging him. "And I'm not sure if I'm relieved or disappointed about it." We stood there, Dmitri smoking a cigarette, me wrapped around him, reveling in the warmth of having someone familiar close. It was comforting. And that's why, to my surprise, the next words out of my mouth were,

"I had an abortion." Dmitri sighed.

"I thought that one day you might." I colored and Dmitri dragged his hand over his face as he thought about the way his sentence came across. "I mean, I thought that one of these days, your…extracurricular activities might result in this. I mean…damn it."

"I know what you're trying to say. It's okay."

"I'm just…not surprised, is all. You're a little reckless at times and I thought one day it would wind up like this. You're not the best at anticipating the consequences of your actions." For some reason, I found myself laughing lightly. From anyone else, these words would have made me furious. "So it was Potter's kid then?"

"Yeah," I said with a sigh.

"That explains why the two of you are so buddy buddy now."

"It took us a while to get there, but yeah."

"And I guess that also explains why you've been an absolute wreck lately."

"Yeah, that too." Dmitri took another long drag of his cigarette before putting it out against the window sill.

"What a pair we make," he remarked with a wry smile. And just like that, I knew that things were going to be okay between Dmitri and me.

* * *

><p>I watched from the Slytherin table the next morning as Dmitri strode up to the Gryffindor table and asked Lucy out on a date. She blushed at the attention she was getting from the Great Hall, but nodded her consent. Dmitri smiled brilliantly and babbled a bit more before he stalked off with a spring in his step to class. Al and I shared a look and a smile before getting up and walking off to Charms.<p>

We didn't say anything on our way; Al was the only person with whom I could tolerate the quiet. There was an easiness, a warmth to it that alleviated my anxieties. And on this particular day, with the success of Dmitri and Lucy, I felt like I was on top of the world. About halfway to Charms, Al, who had looked pensive our entire walk, spoke.

"So…" Al dragged out the word, the look on his face now took on characteristics of nervousness; his brows were slightly drawn and his mouth was quirked in small, unsure frown. He shook slightly, hesitant, and he parted his lips and closed them after words refused to come out. Eventually, he continued. "So I've been trying to think of a way to bring this up. We've been spending a lot of time together, and I know that it was mostly because we were trying to fix up Morozov and my cousin, but I was just wondering, I mean that, well, I like spending time with you, a lot and well…" He trailed off, biting his lip, staring at me shrewdly.

"Yes?"I asked him impatiently.

"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?" I was struck dumb. I gaped at him, doing my best impersonation of a goldfish. He laughed mirthlessly at my expression.

"I don't know what to say," I finally settled on. It was the truth, wasn't it? I mean, I hadn't even thought about it. Al was my friend, and only just that! I was still trying to process that he didn't completely hate me after I screwed everything up in September.

He liked me. He really really liked me. He must've if he was putting himself through this all over again.

"I should've expected you to be absolutely oblivious," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Well, it's not like you made it obvious," I tried to defend myself.

"Seriously, Marian? I thought I was being so transparent!"

"You said you hated me."

"I never said that!"

"You about as good as did! What else was I supposed to infer from your sneering at me in the kitchens, refusing to be my friend?"

"I was _hurt_, Marian! You said that everything was a mistake! I knew that we were doing things in the wrong order, but I had hoped…well, I thought it meant something. And then you went and said that it was stupid and that it shouldn't have happened—and I know, you've cleared it up for me since then—but at the time, I was angry and I wanted to try to make you hurt as much as you hurt me." He reached for my hand, and as much as I wanted to tear it away from him, I couldn't bring myself to do so. He obviously needed the contact; obviously needed some sign that there was _something_ between us. And I couldn't really correct him. Because there was something between us. We were forever connected. I would always be the girl that didn't have his baby. No matter what I did, no matter how far I pushed him away, it would always be there. And I suppose I must have recognized that; that's why I had sought him out, why I had trusted him and used him and allowed him to be my friend and to pick up the pieces of me that I had broken myself. Yes, there was something between us; it may not have been what he wanted or could label, but it was there. I had come to depend on it and, as selfish as it was, I knew that I couldn't lose it.

"I don't…know, Al. I just don't know." I wanted to say yes, but I couldn't tell if that was because I just didn't want him to abandon me or if it was because I actually felt something for him. And as much as I didn't want what we had to fall apart, I felt like I should finally start learning from my mistakes. I couldn't lead him on, not when he had been so good to me. So if there was even the slightest chance that I didn't feel the same way about him, then I couldn't go out with him. I swallowed thickly, trying to find some way to express this to him, but came up with nothing.

"Think about it," he implored me after I didn't say anything else. He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles in a way made my thoughts halt midsentence and replaced them with white noise. He let go of my hand reluctantly, then walked off to Charms without once looking back at me. From the tense way he carried himself, I knew that he wanted to. As soon as he was out of sight, I took off running in the opposite direction. Class was the last thing on my mind.

I wound up back in the dormitories. Thankfully, Eve wasn't in; neither were Winnie or Charlotte. Only Irene remained, sprawled on top of her bed, reading _Witch Weekly_. My appearance startled her. After all, I usually was in Charms by this time of day.

"Everything okay, Marian?"

"Yes," I answered automatically, without thinking. "No." I revised a moment later. "I don't know." Because I really didn't. She scooted over on her bed and patted the spot next to her. I threw myself onto it without a moment's hesitation. Soothingly, she ran a hand through my hair. Neither of us said anything for a long time. I weighed the pros and cons of Al's offer and couldn't help but wonder which choice was the right one. She read her magazine.

If I said I came to any groundbreaking conclusions at this time, I'd be lying. Yes, to me, seemed to be the scariest word in the world. It would change everything and things couldn't go back after that. It had taken us so long to get here, to get to the point where he was so integrated in my life; I didn't know what I'd do without him. I couldn't lose him just because he wanted more than I could give him. I wasn't that type of girl—the type that did all the strings attached stuff. But at the same time, I knew it was a very real possibility that I could lose him by saying no.

There was no way out, it seemed. Either option was a vast, open minefield. One wrong step and things would blow! Frustrated, I buried my face in the duvet of Irene's bed.

"There, there, pet." She murmured comfortingly. "Whatever it is, it isn't that bad."

"Yes it is. It's the worst thing that could have ever happened." But even I could see the stupidity of that statement. After everything I had been through this year, Al asking me out was low on the list of "Bad Things That Happened To Marian." But, at the same time, it was also number one.

* * *

><p>I avoided Al for the next couple of days and he let me. He barely even looked at me. I ate all my meals in the kitchen, sat on the opposite side of the room from him, and stayed locked in my dormitory when I had nowhere else to be. But after a couple days of frantic panicking every time I saw a head of unruly, black hair, I knew I needed to make a decision.<p>

And after all my deliberation, I choose no. It was the right decision, I told myself. The only thing left to do was inform Al. I stalked up to him after Charms and pulled him in the opposite direction of the stream of students flowing out the door. He seemed to know exactly what I wanted and followed me without question until we found ourselves in a deserted corridor, hopelessly alone.

"So…you've an answer for me?" He asked me after a moment. I sighed and looked pleadingly at him. I had lost what little nerve I had.

"Al." It was all I could say. I couldn't tell him no to his face but from the way his face contorted—something between a grimace and a wince—that he understood my meaning.

"Oh come on, Marian!" I shook my head.

"Don't, Al."

"Don't _what_, Marian? Force you to confront the fact that you're making the wrong decision?"

"I'm not making the wrong decision!"

"Yes you are! We're good together! Even when we're fighting, there's this air of…tension between us!"

"Al, it's not you."

"Oh bullshit, Marian! It's got to be me. You're clearly attracted to me! You slept with me for crying out loud. You practically seduced me." I flushed at the accusation. "Why the hell won't you give me a chance?"

"It's _me_, Al. You want the relationship, and the cutesy public displays of affection, and a girlfriend that isn't a walking mess. I'm _not that girl_, Al. Girls like me don't get to—" He cut me off with a groan.

"_Stop saying that_! Girls like _you_," he spat the word out so harshly I flinched. "You say it all the time. Everyone says it about you. Girls like you. Like you're some sort of damaged goods, some sort of scum on the bottom of my shoe. You're _not_. You're Marian Priscilla Campbell and I like you and I want to go on a date with you. I'm not this, this person that you've put on a pedestal. I'm not…_superior_ to you in any way! I'm no better than you are." He sighed. "The point is, Marian, that if you think of yourself as inferior, people are going to treat you like it. And you deserve so much better."

"But I don't. I certainly don't deserve you. Not after…_everything_." He kissed me then, hard and passionate, his hands tangling themselves in my hair as he pulled me closer to him. I pushed him away out of shock, but he didn't let it deter him.

"_Please_, Marian," he murmured against my lips before kissing me again, softer this time, but just as passionate. "Just give me a shot. One shot. We'll go to Hogsmeade—for real this time. And then, if after the date you decide that we'd be better off as friends, that you don't feel anything romantic for me, then I'll let the subject drop. And you'll never have to worry about…these kinds of advances from me again." His mouth was on mine once more before I could answer, unrelenting.

When I was a child, before my mother died, I remember going swimming. My favorite thing to do was sink to the bottom and hold my breath as long as possible. I scared my mother out of her wits when I did it; she was always afraid that I wasn't going to come back up. But I always did. Inevitably, the need for oxygen would overtake me and I'd push off from the bottom of the pool and, arms scrambling, clawing, jerking, move towards the surface. And that moment, when I broke through the water and back up into the world, filling my deprived lungs with the air they so craved and my head slightly aching from the denial, but now filled, overflowing, spilling over the brim with it once more, so that I felt nothing more than the fact that I was _alive_, well, that moment was why I kept doing it. Why I kept sinking to the bottom of the pool. That feeling of the blood rushing through my veins in a desperate attempt to escape certain death was like a drug. And Al's kisses reminded me of that; reminded me of being able to _feel_ so much, feel _too much_, overwhelming, but alive. They pulsed through me like tiny, desirable, electric shocks; like the first moment that I would push off from the bottom and the water would whoosh right by; and I craved the feeling so much that I grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him closer to me, one hand at his collar, the other halfway down his chest. When we finally parted, we were panting and shaking. My lips were surely bruised and his hands in my hair had caused it to become tangled and messy. I was certain I looked like a girl who had just had a good snog; no, I _was_ a girl who had a good snog. A great one.

That had to mean something, right? Even I couldn't deny that we had chemistry. And God, I so wanted to pursue it, so wanted to just give it a shot and see where it would go.

"Okay," I relented, even though the thought of it terrified me. "We'll go to Hogsmeade." Al smiled widely at me and hugged me to him. I attributed the butterflies I felt in my stomach to the fact that he picked me up by the waist and twirled me around.

* * *

><p>AN: I can't tell if this chapter is any good. It's been sitting around my harddrive, half finished for too long. So I decided to just plow through and finish it the other night. And somehow, I managed to write pretty much the opposite of what I had planned. And I can't tell if the story is better for it. So if this chapter suddenly disappears, it's because I decided to fix it.

I'd like to say that I will finish this story over my Winter Break, but alas, I don't think that's very realistic. I'm a senior in college you guys, so I'll be filling out all sorts of applications trying to find myself a future after May. But I'm sure one or two chapters will pop up sometime soon.

Until the,

NaP


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